


In My Blood

by BD99



Category: Love & Legends (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Chapter 5 Is a Trigger, Dark, Dark Magic, Demons, Explicit Language, F/F, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Major Character Injury, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Protectiveness, Psychological Torture, Rage, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Sacrifice, Strong Female Characters, Survivor Guilt, The Queen gets punched out, This is uncomfortable, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-17 05:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15454557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BD99/pseuds/BD99
Summary: The Queen has gotten her hands on Helena and Kya.   Her plans for the lovers are vile, forcing Helena to watch her nightmares unfold and her vows to be broken.  What will the sorceress sacrifice to save the woman she loves?  Furthermore, what will Kya sacrifice to protect Helena from the Witch Queen's grasp?





	1. Chapter 1 - Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings on this chapter.  
> Attempted rape.  
> Severe injuries.  
> Severe language.
> 
> This is hopefully going to evolve into a few chapters exploring a few dark concepts and theories surrounding Helena and the Queen. I was listening to BLOOD by Breaking Benjamin when I got this idea, and the Searys route gave me further sparks. Here's hoping anybody who reads this enjoys it, maybe even gets inspired to try their hand at some fanfictions. If you do, toss me the links. I LOVE seeing people's writing on these awesome characters. As usual, comments are immensely valued for me to gauge how I am going and improve, so anything is appreciated no matter how big or small. If there is something you'd really like to see, also feel free to shout it at me.
> 
> Now, enjoy the carnage :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena and Kya in the Throne Room act on their desperation after they are pushed too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> Attempted Rape  
> Implied Rape and torture  
> Non graphic Genital Mutilation.  
> Strong language.  
> Violent Themes.

“Look away, Helena!” Kya urged, her voice dragging over the gravel of a parched throat. The Otherworldly beauty was strong, even as steel clad hands pushed down on her slender shoulders. Ice coloured steel clashed with creamy linen, overcoming the softness within a few moments.  
  
Kya was cast in a ghostly light, an ethereal dose of colour to the cold marble walls. Crisp, terrifying banners hung down the walls, leading the room to feel oppressive. It caved in on the woman, only making her dark hair appear like the darkest skies of winter instead of raven. The stony colour of her eyes only drew the light, offering defiance in a glare up a facetious staircase, to the occupant of a cracked throne.  
  
“Yes, Helena. Look away.” The Queen’s voice echoed with cruel mockery. The tones of desecrated sanity and disturbed delight bounced off the sleek marble. The walls, like the Queen, were beautiful at a glance yet cold and lifeless. Depraved of any marker of personality or humanity.  
  
Indeed, the Queen matched her castle, bloodless as she lounged in her throne. The beautiful curves of her decorative corset were merely another mask over inconceivable evil, a veil that flowed into feathered skirts. Delicate feet were marred by a crimson brown smear, shifting to purples over the spikes of her heeled shoes.  
  
At those feet, Helena shuddered, broken down into a shivering mess. White gold hair remained knotted, clotted with blood from several gashes down a beautiful face. Her once proud nose was an unsightly mess, smeared with a pattern that matched that of the Queen’s foot. Blood clung to her split lip, dripping from her disfigured nose to catch between her teeth. Her body was covered in mottled bruises, a variety of shapes and colours depending on the object used to inflict such horrors. The Sorceress was already stripped down, left in nothing save the baby blue corset and underwear the Queen had forced her to wear. Blood stained blue to purple, dripping from fresh wounds down the Mage’s body.  
  
“She could have died quickly, if not for your wilfulness.” The Queen continued, sneering at the concept of Helena’s emotions. White knuckles paled in moonlight hair, clinging to the strands in an almost bored fashion. The Sorceress didn’t even fight, merely hanging limp in the Queen’s hold. Her icy eyes remained glazed, hidden behind walls and layers of coping mechanisms that Kya didn’t dare try to penetrate.  
  
“She couldn’t want you. Not after you were mine. You are worthless. Nothing if not for your magic. An unfaithful, treacherous whore. You should be grateful I care.” The Queen continued, pulling Helena’s head upright to force her to gaze into Kya’s eyes. At that statement, Helena’s brows twitched, emotional agony cracking the walls she had put up. The look on her face was terrified, raw fear and vulnerability as she was exposed to Kya’s view. The American didn’t need to see the defined bruising down Helena’s thighs to know what the Queen had done, it was plain in Helena’s face. It was the shame Kya had seen every time Helena could not submit herself to a lover’s touch. The shame when she believed she had overstepped with Kya.  
  
“Don’t listen, Helena! This is-AH!” Kya tried to reassure Helena, only to grunt at a devastating blow to her stomach. The woman crumbled in the hold of the guards, doubling over until her nose brushed the ground. The American struggled, her shoulders shaking as she fought to lift her head up once more.  
  
“It’s not true, Helena!” Her movements were as futile as fighting the tide, only allowing a few moments to cry out before she was shoved down yet again. Drowned by hulking figures of steel and cruelty.  
  
“She can’t ruin you!” Kya yelled, her voice cracking with her urgency. Every word hurt, they were knives across her vocal chords. A knife she would drive into her chest again and again to give those words to the love of her life.  
  
“Silence her.”  
  
“Helena! I love you. Don’t le-“ Kya’s words were lost to a scream as an armored boot collided with her diaphragm. She felt something crack as air was driven from her body, flaring with pain so severe the world went black for a moment. Her arms were held at the elbows, leaving her listlessly hanging from her captor’s hold. Raven locks obscured her pale features from Helena’s desperate gaze, a curtain of tangled obsidian between lovers.  
  
“Kya!” Helena cried in concern, finding the spirit to put up a struggle yet again. Fire burned through her veins, empowering her to throw a fist towards the Queen. Ice quickly crawled down her senses, spreading from the lazy hold the Queen managed to claim over her disobedient limb. Years burned in that touch along with the painful magic.  
  
“Your defiance only makes it worse for her, you ungrateful creature. Did I not know you entirely, Helena? Have you already forgotten?”  
  
How could she forget? How could Helena EVER forget the knife between her thighs. Ice burning its marks into her flesh, tearing layers of skin away into proof of her weakness that left her immobilised. The unwelcome touch inside her, exploring her body as she lay there accepting for fear of worse. As her mind tried to find a single refuge in her defilement. The way her body clenched and rejected the magic that drew blood from her most vulnerable places. The sticky shame that lingered in agony for days. The filthy feeling that no scrubbing could erase.  
  
“I gave you everything.”  
  
The Queen never gave without reason. She offered the illusion of affection before each rape. She offered a facade of caring and understanding, luring Helena’s thoughts into the tormented conflict that disconnected her. The Queen gave her the luxurious bath as a silent reminder that no scrubbing could erase the memory. No soaps could cleanse Helena of the disgust she felt as she cleaned blood from bruised thighs, or the gashes down her tortured body.  
  
“You are mine, Helena! You owe me everything you are! I own you!”  
  
“No.” The word was a weak defiance.  
  
“Do you not remember the nights you screamed my title in worship?” The Queen continued, her blue lips curling into a deprecating smirk.  
  
“You fucking raped her! You psychopathic bitch!” Kya snarled, lifting her head to glare at the Queen.   Helena could only stare in awe. The darkness that made the Queen was burning in Kya’s veins, drawing the unmatchable temper to the surface. Stone coloured eyes had become as immovable as mountains, filled with the determination and passion that had drawn Helena to the girl. Her lips peeled into a snarl that Helena had often seen on the Queen’s face before she personally murdered, the pits of her icy wrath. Kya’s snarl held differences though. It was unpractised, primal and connected to her evident emotions. It burned with something that the Queen could never match. Compassion. Beneath every layer of rage, Kya’s selfless compassion played the perfect backdrop. Her expression in that sense was more terrifying than anything the Queen’s face could express in its facade of humanity.  
  
“She begged for me, pathetic girl.”  
  
“Using manipulation to pressure someone doesn’t make it consent! It makes you a weak, horrible, abusive woman who couldn’t earn her love! You don’t deserve Helena, she’s more than you could ever be!” Kya spat the words venomously, along with spittle loaded with blood. The glob landed on the floor, defiling the shades with colour. The blood spread thin, becoming pink across the stone.  The challenge glared at everyone in the room, which had fallen silent at the Otherworldly woman’s courage. Or was it insanity?  
  
“She screamed for you.” The Queen informed, her lips peeling into a sneer at Kya’s defiance. Those words had the intended effect, driving the air from Kya’s lungs. Her chest tightened in fear. She could see the evidence across Helena’s beaten body, could assume from what she knew of the Queen. But this confirmation? It hit her harder than she could ever anticipate.  
  
“For hours, she cried your name as if you might save her from her punishment. It is amusing how infatuated she is.” The Queen spoke as if Helena’s suffering was a toy, something to amuse and nothing more. Kya could only gape, her brain processing the words in a crescendo of horror. She could almost picture it, Helena begging for mercy, begging for Kya’s touch instead of the Queen’s. The majestic Sorceress sobbing for her lover to save her or comfort her. Perhaps repeating the name to hold onto the memory of love as she was exposed to brutality. As every step of recovery was torn away by The Queen’s defiling hands. Hands that were still near Helena.  
  
“I’m going to fucking kill you! I’m going to take my fist and shove it so far up your arse that you’ll be speaking sign language out your mouth! AH! Don’t you fucking touch her, you fucking cu- GAH!” Kya was beyond sense within a moment. Rage and adrenaline powered her past her pain, past everything except tearing the Queen apart. She struggled in the guard’s arms, spitting her insults in a shriek that earned several winces. The grey of her eyes appeared almost black, darkened on such a primal level that shadows clung to her. Her lips peeled away from her teeth in something that could only be described as an animalistic snarl, going beyond anything Helena had seen from the Queen. When the guards hesitated, Magnus approached and struck her. His fierce backhand blows landed, armored knuckles splitting the skin across Kya’s cheek for every time she burst into a rant. The violent jerk of her head was barely a pause for the woman, who continued to yell threats and profanities at the Queen.  
  
Helena’s heart burned in her chest, pounding with fear that her body didn’t even know how to express. Her muscles trembled, tainted by the cold and the intensity of her emotions equally. The full extent of Kya’s anger was terrifying, even though it was not directed at her. Kya had always been gentle, even when Helena surrendered, made herself defenceless. Kya had been the embodiment of consideration. Instinctively kind, always asking for consent and accepting refusals without a blink. She had always encouraged mercy, even when injured. She seemed incapable of the venomous hatred she unleashed at the Queen. Kya was life injected into Helena’s being, the love of her existence. How could she reconcile that gentle girl with the fiend spitting at the Queen’s feet?  
  
“Don’t touch her, you sick fucks!” Kya’s cry was weaker yet still filled with fury. The raven-haired woman frantically tried to look around, hunting for a way to protect her lover even as Helena tried to shake the Queen’s hold. Her magic surfaced, a spark, a campfire in a blizzard before the storm of brutal ice extinguished it. The Queen crushed Helena’s hint of rebellion with yet another burst of indescribable pain. Helena grit her teeth when she fell forwards, resting on her hands as the Queen held her hair like a leash.  
  
Kya, in turn, glared up at Magnus. The trails of blood from her gashed skin was almost beautiful, forming lines of warpaint that only deepened the unfathomable fury in Kya’s expression. Intensified the determination in her eyes. Magnus was too foolish to see the shift in Kya, too comfortable that the guards holding her lithe shoulders down could handle one little girl as he smiled. The curl of his lips beneath his moustache was enough to infuriate her further, the audacity of these people! How dare they hurt her girlfriend? How dare they enjoy it? After everything! Couldn’t they just leave her alone? That indignant rage drove Kya’s head forwards, a battering ram of stubborn forehead delivered straight to the unprotected crotch of the General standing before her.  
  
“-That’s the most head you’ll ever get from us!-“ her thoughts flashed with victory. Magnus yelped, a high pitched squeak as he staggered to the side. His armored hands cradled his family jewels with the ferocity of a dragon guarding its treasure. Or perhaps the desperation.  
  
“Enough!” The Queen’s voice broke through the chaos, calculated in a way that made Helena’s skin crawl. Instinctively, she tried to flinch away, shrinking into the floor before the sharp pull on her hair reminded her of her position.  
  
“It appears that this girl needs to spend her energy. Perhaps a taste of training will calm her.”  
  
“No! Don’t touch her!” This time the outraged cry burst from Helena, as panicked as a spooked colt. Kya remained silent, glaring proudly as the guards chuckled nervously. The room became split, tension falling like winter snow at the order. Many followed for kinder reasons, but many enjoyed the cruelty they could unleash. That order divided the men, turning friends to foes as they all waited to see who would break and obey such a hideous suggestion. Who couldn’t stomach torturing a prisoner of war.  
  
“The Queen is merciful, Helena. She offers a way for Kya to finally understand your suffering. You should be thankful to watch such a union.” Lennox’s voice slithered down Kya’s spine, beginning to crack through her instinctual rage. The only suffering Kya could be made to understand was...  
  
“No! I will not- please! Take me instead! Take me, my Queen!” Helena’s voice was a broken plea, shattered glass trying to be reshaped into a delicate window.  
  
“I already have.” The Queen’s dismissal earned a sob from Helena, who frantically looked around. Her muscles flexed and writhed beneath the skin, rippling against the grime across her body. Understanding struck Kya like a sledgehammer, blinding her for a few moments of sheer panic before she claimed a shaky breath.  
  
“Look away, Helena.”  
  
“Kya!”  
  
“Look away! I don’t want you to see this!” Kya pleaded, her voice going higher.  
  
“No, Helena. Watch. You delivered her to me, so I am going to spare her, for you. She can entertain the Generals. Just as your little rebellion did.” The Queen sounded downright delighted as she tugged Helena’s hair, earning a soft whimper of resistance as the Sorceress tried to tear her gaze away. She couldn’t.  
  
Icy eyes widened in horror as one guard stepped forwards, rough, greedy hands extended to paw at Kya’s chest. The American spat out several cuss words, struggling away from the touch. The reflections played off the shine of armor, unforgiving steel that tore through the linen shirt Kya wore. The sound of ripping fabric filled Helena’s ears, a backdrop for Kya’s panicked wail as she writhed in the grasp of her captors.  
  
Kya trembled as the Guards hauled her to her feet, lifting until her toes scraped the ground. She let forth a bestial cry, lifting her legs and kicking out with both feet towards the guard who had dared grasp her breast. The man howled, the sound of his clattering steel mimicking the sound of pans clashing together in a busy kitchen. Helena didn’t need to see his face to know that Kya’s kick had left it disfigured, even as crimson dribbled through his fingers.  
  
The other guards wasted no time in throwing Kya to the ground, letting her crash into the stone with a broken groan. The impact caused her fine body to bounce, the sound of her skull ricocheting and her bones cracking filled the air. The woman’s limbs splayed awkwardly, trembling with rage as she yet again attempted to rise.  
  
Kya’s muscles screamed. Her bones felt old and heavy, as if the marrow had been transfigured into iron. The sound of her own heart and blood rushing through her ears was as overwhelming as the storms that were her own laboured breaths. Her battered stomach churned, flooding with disgust that threatened to erupt from Kya’s throat. The strong, sickly taste rushed over her tongue, flooding her nose with the horrid smell as she heaved. Weak groans escaped her along with the liquid which stained the floor. Blood and bile mixed between her trembling palms, claiming her focus for an instant. It was enough.  
  
Hot, hard weight fell over her back, pressing her face down towards the expelled liquids as she struggled. Blue and white cuffs filled her vision as her arms were grabbed, her hands wrenched from the ground. Her world teetered, held up by her determination and desperation. Her core and thighs ached, her back protested yet she held herself up for a few brave seconds. Then, not even adrenaline could power her through her opposition. Her eyes slammed shut as she fell forwards. A rough hand in her hair pushed her face into the cold stone, leaving her head turned at an awkward angle as she tried to watch Helena. If she had to suffer, Helena would make it better. Helena made her stronger.  
  
“Do not touch her! Have me. Anyone you desire to reward my Queen, let them have me instead! Please! I beg of you!” Helena was beyond her pride now, her eyes flooding with tears as the nightmare unfolded before her.  
  
“No! Don’t hurt Helena!”  
  
Helena could only watch as Kya continued to give token protests, yet her fight was claimed by exhaustion. Kya’s sobs were quiet, even as her body rocked in time with Lennox. The cruel man jerked Kya left and right, busy with holding her down and positioning her even as he attempted to remove the leather between them.  
  
“This is more fitting. My loyal generals rewarded with a body that looks like mine. Able to offer their devotions every night.”  
  
“Please! Let me endure the punishment! Spare her! I will do anything!”  
  
“Your obedience is in exchange for her life, Helena. Nothing you can offer is worth more than this lesson.” The Queen’s cold voice earned yet another sob from Helena, who watched Kya weaken.  
  
Lennox had managed to trap Kya’s hands between their bodies, leaving her crumpled in such a way that she had to focus on her breathing. Stoney eyes met Helena’s as Lennox finally worked his own belt free, a fact announced by the thud of his weapons and material against the stone. His expression was cruel satisfaction, gloating and tormenting combined into a sadistic smirk. His fingers tightened in Kya’s hair, yanking her head up to stare at Helena as he rocked his hips forwards, mimicking what he planned to do once he managed to undo Kya’s trousers.  
  
Never had Helena seen Kya look so small. The lithe woman was dwarfed by the Cultist, broken down in more than a physical way. Her brows had softened from rage to a mute acceptance, clinging to the last of her determination to protect Helena and keep her sobs silent. Tears trailed down her cheeks, tainted by the darkness of her eyeliner. Black stood stark against pale, giving her an almost hollowed look.  
  
“You’re not so strong now, are you, witch? Watching your girl be taken how a woman should be. Not even magic can make up for a good cock!” One Guard jabbed, finding the courage to taunt the sobbing Sorceress. At that, she froze, struck by a terrifying realisation.  
  
_“-I am not strong enough... but she can be.-“_ Helena was able to hold her tongue, wincing as she heard another soft wail escape Kya.  
  
“No! Don’t!”  
  
_“-He will not, my love. Not now. Not ever.-“_ Helena silently vowed, moved by her idea. The magic she had used to fight, all of it had been learned beneath the Queen’s tutelage. Every spell had been something to lash out or flee, everything expected of a terrified little girl.  
  
Helena did not blink, nor did she utter a sound. Instead, she stared into Kya’s eyes, focusing on the strength she was so used to seeing there. She could feel it as she tentatively reached out, dozens of lives flickering like candles in her mind’s eye. A thousand threads of warmth and potential thrumming beneath her palm. Her movements were subtle, a few flicks of her fingers as she focused. A dozen lives she could attack, candles she could extinguish with a flick, but all of that was expected. Instead, she found the single spark she sought. The brightest, purest thing she had felt. Something so powerful it called to her own body, finding a perfect harmony despite the chaos around them.  
  
The magic Helena released was untrained. She caressed the spell between trembling fingers as she might her love, gentle yet greedy, moving with the freedom she so often found with Kya. The twitch at a ticklish location, or the soft moan of contentment when that curious touch found a sore spot. The softness she had felt from Kya’s warmth. These guided her, allowing her to feel the strength rising. A surge of magic, rising so quickly she was sure the Queen would feel it.  
  
“You insolent-“ The Queen launched into a rant, yet Helena was well and truly beyond the point of no return. With her second of freedom she released, pushing with all her might. The change was instant. She saw Kya’s jaw relax, only to clench in anger. The girl no longer trembled with fear, but outrage.  
  
How dare he? His hard length against her clothed sex was an insult to everything she held dear. An insufficient tool seeking to sway her, to dominate. She was not his. She would never be his. Only Helena’s.  
  
_“-I chose to belong to her,-“_ Kya’s thoughts rampaged, even as the spell began to empower her. She was Helena’s. Completely and helplessly. No smile in existence could move her the same way a subtle twitch of Helena’s lips did effortlessly. No heartbeat could fill Kya with the same comfort as listening to Helena’s as she woke. No gentle voice could pierce her as deeply as her name whispered reverently in the heat of passion. The hands grabbing at Kya only brought outrage as she rejected the very notion of submitting. She had nothing to give that wasn’t already Helena’s. No man could fill her the way Helena did. Nobody could make her nerves sing and her mind melt so harmoniously. Nobody else could even make the notion of submitting worth considering. The Sorceress took her to new heights, claiming everywhere so completely that Kya was sure a piece of Helena’s soul lingered.  
  
The fact that Lennox attacked that beautiful harmony, disputed Helena’s unchallenged claim, was worse than any torture that could be inflicted.  
  
_“-and she chose to be MINE!-“_ the other half of the sentiment. Kya may have taken a more physically submissive role with than in any other relationship, but that did not make her weaker. Helena’s natural physical dominance blended with Kya’s strong will seamlessly. Their give and take allowed their roles to switch fluidly, for Helena to equally submit herself to Kya without fear. It had been their trust that had led them to discover how Helena loved to have physical control. It had been their trust that allowed them to learn how Helena melted at head massages, how it was best to touch the centre of her back before touching her hips or shoulders. Helena gave her emotions freely. Nobody else could claim Helena’s tears as Kya did. Nobody could swoon over the Mage’s shy affection, or giggle over the confusion when a modern phrase slipped out. Only Kya had a claim over Helena’s side, where they found was the most comfortable place for Kya to curl up at night. Only Kya had the right to run her fingers through moonlight hair, to hold it back in passion or untangle it in the morning.  
  
The Queen’s hands did NOT belong. They were as equally insulting as Kya’s current predicament.  
  
“If you want to grind so badly, let me help with that!” Kya spat, roaring like a human incarnation of a royal dragon. Her possessive fury drove her hips back with all her magically enhanced rage, meeting Lennox’s thrust. She didn’t feel much beyond an annoying prod against her rear, yet she realised she had managed to inflict pain when the hot breath of a soundless scream brushed over her shoulder. His weight was irrelevant to Kya, who managed to brush the shuddering man aside with a single shrug. With Helena’s magic bubbling through her muscles, Kya felt confident enough to find her feet, pausing only to look at Lennox.  
  
His white trousers tangled around his ankles, with familiar ice blue coloured underwear hooked around his spread knees. He rolled on his back, howling like a banshee as his violently trembling hands cupped his length. Kya may have called him impressive at one point, yet the ship had lost its mast. It had certainly felt larger than it looked, now bent at an unnaturally awkward angle and swelling a violent purplish red between his desperate hands.  
  
Kya’s gaze turned to Helena. The Sorceress had her hands wrapped around the Queen’s wrist weakly, nails biting into the bloodless flesh as the Queen’s hold tightened around Helena’s jaw. There was something intimate about the touch, mirroring the way Kya tenderly cradled her jaw. There was no love in the Queen’s touch however. From beneath her hand, a deathly palor crept over Helena’s face, right across to her lips.    They were parted in a terrified scream, begging to express her agony despite the fact her voice was stolen.  
  
Kya saw red.  
  
Helena trembled under the Queen’s touch, unable to scream as she felt the ice crawling down her throat. The saliva in her mouth began to freeze, sending shockwaves of agony down the roots of every tooth and making every gulp of air burn her tormented lungs. Each movement of her tongue caused her to rip the forming ice, and perhaps even her own skin. The taste of copper didn’t register fully, despite the flood of warmth from her blood. Cold then hot then cold again, sensations changing so quickly her nerves screamed in misery.  
  
A flash of raven hair filled her gaze, wings of justice and fury carrying a guttural war cry and deliverance.  
The sensations were wrenched away the moment she saw the incoming storm, along with the Queen’s hold over her. The Queen’s indignant yelp was followed by a sickly thud, a skull and body coming down on the stone. Hard. Helena could only blink once she crumbled to her knees, struggling to breathe as she took in the sight before her.  
  
Kya was straddling the Queen, her feet hooked over the Queen’s struggling legs. Kya’s back arched like a panther’s, her shoulder blades flowing one way then the next as her fists took their turn colliding with whatever part of the Queen they could reach. Each punch was like a beat of a drum, coming down with built up fury in a sustained beat. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the near silent hall, the backdrop to Kya’s furious screaming.  
  
“You will never touch her again you fucking cunt!” Kya’s fists continued to rain hell down on the Queen’s body.  
  
“I am,” One. Two.  
  
“going to,” Three. Four.  
  
“kill you!” Five. Six.  
  
“I will kill you you sick bitch! Nobody touches my Helena you fucking assehole! Go! To! Hell!” Kya’s rampage remained enhanced by Helena’s spell, giving her the strength to continue her beatdown. The woman’s rage took the hall by surprise, not even allowing the Queen the clarity to cast. The hall stood in alarmed suspense as Kya panted, her teeth bared like an animals above her victim. Her stoney eyes held a calculated madness, sizing the woman laying prone beneath her as if she were a meal. A game to be approached. For once, the Queen looked small. The bloodless woman cringed beneath her attacker, dazed and afraid of what was incoming.  
  
_“-I’ve got you now, bitch! I’m going to make you pay for EVERYTHING you’ve done to Helena. I’m going to-“_  
  
“Kya!” Helena’s voice broke through the red. Kya winced as she rolled away from the Queen, trembling weakly as she judged the distance between them. Kya’s swollen knuckles protested as her hands lay flat on the ground, sending sparks of pain up her arms. Her grazed palms throbbed with her heartbeat as she took the first crawl forwards, one knee then the other. Left. Right. The pattern was numb, a repeating motion she put the remaining focus she had into to avoid her pain. She HAD to get to Helena, she had to.  
  
“My love, hold onto me!” Helena instructed, crawling in turn to grasp Kya’s wrist. The moment their skin touched, Kya felt relieved. Pain washed away into a dull annoyance compared to the radiance of her lover. The blood in Helena’s hair did nothing to mark its beauty, how it shone like a halo of winter around the face of spring. The ugliness of this encounter was all over their bodies, yet it would not remain. Kya knew they would be free, now that she and Helena were together.  
  
“Seize them!” Alain’s commanding voice echoed through the hall, tearing Kya’s attention away from her relief. The Armored man was charging across the hall, ascending the stairs as Helena’s chanting grew frantic. The Sorceress was shaking with fear, even as the syllables escaping her lips became more and more familiar to Kya. Louder. More desperate.  
  
_“- He’s too close! She can’t survive more of this. I can’t let them have her.-“_ Kya’s thoughts raced as she watched Alain draw closer and closer.  His hand was outstretched, ready to grab the Sorceress and tear her from her spell. Kya couldn’t let that happen, no matter the cost. The knowledge sat heavily in her gut, a blow more devastating than anything Lennox had attempted to do to her. They had been so close, so very close to escaping. To happiness and freedom. That dream, however beautiful, would have to wait. At least for Kya. If it didn’t, it would become nothing more than a lost wish crushed beneath the Queen’s heel.  
  
“You are my soulmate, Helena. I love you.” Kya stated earnestly, offering what she hoped was her most loving smile before she acted. As Helena uttered the last words of her spell, Alain reached the top of the stairs. Kya acted on instinct. Her muscles bunched, gathering all the strength she had left in her battered body before she acted.  
  
She tore free from Helena and lunged.  
  
Her shoulder collided with Alain’s midsection, allowing her to tackle the man. Their combined weight sent them both bouncing down the stairs, clattering and crashing steel mixed with pained grunts and weakened moans. Each bounce jolted Kya’s bones, causing her to come crashing down on the sharpness of Alain’s armor. Those angles dug into her flesh, tearing at her like a thousand claws for the pain. It was all numb now, all bleeding together as her senses were overwhelmed. Even as she felt herself thrown to the stone, Kya couldn’t help a smile. She couldn’t deny herself the sense of victory she felt as a boot collided with her side, then another with her head. As the darkness claimed her once more, Kya went without fear. She was safe in the knowledge she had won.  
  
Helena was free of the Queen’s clutches.  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2 - In the Dungeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small timelapse of what happens when Kya is in the Queen's dungeons.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> Non Graphic Rape.  
> Non graphic torture.  
> Sexual harassment.  
> Strong Language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> Non Graphic Rape.  
> Non graphic torture.  
> Sexual harassment.  
> Strong Language.

Chapter 2

 

It wasn’t dark, not quite.   Torches burned along the walls, held in rings rusting and decrepit, encased in layers of thick dust that rested on the softest bed of abandoned spider egg sacks and webs.  Memories long forgotten, left to crumble in the cadaverous mind of the corpses living behind the bars.     Corpses that breathed, that wailed when struck, bent head and knee in desperation for food and water that the guards so often denied despite a task preformed.  

 

Kya refused to be a corpse.

 

The first-time dinner had arrived, Kya had been startled to find it was a stew, something evidently well cooked given how delicious it smelt.    The scent of bland yet well cooked meat had caused her mouth to water when the guard had stopped before her cell, the silvery blue of his armor shining like an aura in the torchlight.   She had watched the simple ladle dip into the large pot, scooping out a rather generous helping of thick, delicious stew before depositing it calmly into a plain yet deep bowl.

The doors had creaked as they opened, hinges squeaking in protest to part enough for the guard to step into the cell.    Kya had extended her hands hopefully, prepared to take the food with a kind word to the man who didn’t belong… the kindness had not lasted long.

Before she could even think to open her mouth, the man had slipped his hand down to his trousers, pulling his length from them.    He had waved it in Kya’s face, laughing at the horror that fell over her expression before letting his genitals fall balls deep into the bowl of stew.

“You want to eat, Bitch, you eat it off my cock”

Kya had looked away, disgusted by the lump of pale flesh and unkempt hairs resting across what she had believed her food.    When the guard had simply taken himself in hand, Kya had dared look back at him, only to feel the heat of gravy smacked across her cheek.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She had screamed, too startled by the crassness to even consider anything witty.

Those words had been the beginning of Kya’s self-imposed starvation.

 

 

Every time she opened her eyes, it was the same now.   The torches burning loyally, dedicated to their task of keeping the underground cells lit so that every prisoner could endure every terrifying conscious moment staring at the ruins around them.   No air reached the prison, leaving the air thick and heavy with the most noisome smells known to man. 

No buckets were provided for the prisoners, leaving them excreting on the cell floors.  Cells that were never, EVER cleaned.   Layers of grime covered the stonework, grime that every prisoner was forced to crawl through.  To sit on.  To sleep on.    Wiping one’s hands was impossible, given how long that human waste had been left uncleaned.   Everyone had tried it, the first had succeeded, but now nobody ever could.   Every wall had scratches in it, some of them were pictures, others were names.  Some notches to try and track the days.  The Guards rotated prisoners so often that Kya never could adapt to a cell, never could block out the stench as she was exposed to new smells so often.    Some cells held the festering corpses of the prisoners before her, left to rot where they had died.   So many prisoners fell to disease and illness, but not Kya.   

Every day, or at least Kya thought it was every day, an elderly healer hobbled down the old stairs to tend to Kya.   She poked and prodded, speaking venomously about how her family had been slaughtered.   Unarmed farmers Wolfson had failed to protect outside the walls, impaled on blue blades, staring at a vision of death and ice with winter gold hair that cackled with manic glee.

 

Kya had lost track of how many sleeps she had slept, how long she had starved as she waited for her turn.   Her sleep was often interrupted in the most brutal of ways without a single guard laying a harmful hand on her.   Beyond moving her from cell to cell, and the guards who thought they could get some form of pleasure from her in exchange for food, no guard dared lay a hand on her.    Even the healer did only what was needed to ensure Kya’s health, nothing more.   At first that had been a blessing, leaving her unharmed.  Later, Kya realised it was a curse.  No physical contact, no conversations, very little water and food.   So many of her senses left aching for stimulation, attacked by the boredom and creeping chill of the dungeons.

 

When Kya opened her eyes, she found herself staring out at an open area, lit by more torches than she had ever seen gathered on a wall.    The natural lines of the rock cave were sharp and unforgiving, blending into the work of art that was the stonework of the built castle.  Several guards stood in that area, laughing gleefully around the crumpled figure of a woman.    

 _“-Not a woman.  A girl… She ca-“_ Kya’s thoughts were cut off by the terrified scream, a sound so shrill that it resonated within her skull after the scream died out.     Kya could only watch, her gut tightening and sinking even as pressure forced her body to wretch.   The grime on the floors no matter meant much to her as she pushed forwards, her nails biting into the layers of condensed shit as she dragged herself to the bars.

“She’s just a girl!  You heartless monsters!” Kya tried to scream, tried to force the words out like a war cry.  Instead, what escaped was a dry rasp, a desperate plea towards the men.    Most ignored her, continuing to laugh as they dragged on the girl’s limbs.    More shrill cries and desperate sobs escaped, along with the sound of cloth tearing.    Light danced across pale flesh, highlighting every exposed piece as more and more was torn from the girl.  A grab here and tear there before she was passed to the next man like an animal.

“Her parents willing gave her in service to the Witch Queen, similar to your Sorceress whore.” The captain taunted, smirking at Kya with his broken teeth.   Tufts of grey danced through his beard and hair, giving away his age as he eyed Kya in such a way she felt naked.   The gaze alone was enough to strip her of all her pride and thoughts, earning shivers as she put everything into focusing on that single man.    If she focused, maybe she could…

“Lads hold the bitch up. Don’t worry, she can’t bite with that broken jaw.  Doesn’t she look like Klein?” The Captain continued, making a gesture to the young woman in place.    The resemblance was striking.   The same amazing blue eyes, glistening with the same broken horror that Kya had seen in Helena’s.    A similar jawline, quivering and bruised.    If Kya had to guess, she would say the girl was here just because of her resemblance.   Just to sicken Kya further.    Was this how Helena had looked?  Had they done this to Helena before?  Surrounded her?  Grabbed at her whilst she tried to defend her most vulnerable areas, screaming and wailing in wordless gurgles?

“I’ll do what you want.  Don’t hurt her, please!  I- I’ll…” Kya trailed off, unable to think what these men would want aside from one thing.   Her.  Kya’s silence lingered as she looked into the Captain’s eyes, silently pleading with him.   She tried, swallowing and opening her mouth to speak again and again, yet her tongue was led and her vocal chords still.   She couldn’t even force herself to squeak in the face of the girls screaming.   Wordless screams that expressed a million pleas.  Screams that grew more and more guttural as the men resumed their work.

 _“-I just have to offer myself, or something.  Why can’t I?   I can’t… I can’t do this!  Helena… I-“_ Kya’s silence went from horrified to defeated, a conscious choice as her gaze shifted to the girl.   Bile built in her throat as she gazed into the terrified blue eyes, watching the realisation flood the girl’s eyes mere moments before the girl screamed and buckled. The men descended upon her like starved animals, whooping gleefully as the sobs became more and more violent.   Kya closed her eyes, unable to watch the horrifying scene before her as grunts and screams mixed with laughter and the sound of flesh against flesh.

She was going to be sick.   Nothing else could be said in the face of what greeted her ears.   Even as she tried to block the sounds out, her mind forced her to listen.   She should watch!   She deserved to suffer this, she deserved to be left to rot in a cell for what she was allowing to happen.   She was selfish.  A selfish, selfish harlot.  Even looking into a girl’s eyes who couldn’t even have seen twenty, Kya had chosen herself.   She had chosen to protect herself on a chance she could escape and chose to condemn this girl to a pack of rapists.   Her choice.  Her crime.  Her fault.

“You have a choice.  Beg us for her death, or allow her to live like this.”

“Kill her!   Please god just kill her!  Don’t do this to her!  She didn’t do anything to deserve this!” Kya didn’t need to be pressured as she allowed her eyes to open, doing her level best to ignore the grazing on the Girl’s cheek as her face was pulled up from the floor.    Death had to be better.  A quick pain to save her the length of what was going to happen otherwise.   To save her from the fate Helena had endured, without the care for her wellbeing.

 

She had never been so wrong.

 

The guards complied, one of them driving their sword into her stomach mid thrust before the pack continued their defilement.     Kya couldn’t.    Her eyes snapped closed yet again as she fell back from the bars, barely registering her own scream of horror as the Captain approached.     Glee burned in those eyes, sharper than any knife Kya had seen.     Whilst the girl’s screams weakened, he watched, forcing Kya listen to every gruesome sound until the cries stopped.  That was when the worst sound of all escaped his lips.

 

“The Queen will see you now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chickened out on this chapter majorly. I wanted to really delve and break Kya down slowly, but nothing I wrote felt quite right. Instead, I decided that it might be better to leave these details partially shown and let anybody brave enough to read this fill in the blanks.  
> This is likely the WORST chapter for blunt, crude, straightforwards evil. If you can stomach this, you'll make it to the fluffy reunions and whatnot.
> 
> Song that inspired this chapter  
> Who will Save you now - Les Friction  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TR7f9f4z5TE


	3. Chapter 3 - Waking Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into where Helena ended up.

Chapter 3

 

  
The cold of the forest floor helped stem the bleeding from every gash, which danced across the woman’s back. Nonsense patterns forming pictures in the unwilling pale flesh. The blood coated her, helping her blend into the rotting leaves and dirt. The grime hid her body, whilst her own blood darkened the brightness of her underwear to duet with the shadows perfectly. Gnarled roots curled around her, sheltering her as well as obscuring. Despite nature’s beautiful and tormented illusions, however, nothing could drown out the intense gleam of white gold hair.

  
“Is that General Klein?” The first of three men questioned, his eyes wide with utter astonishment as his companions caught up to him. 

  
“The Bitch wouldn’t be here. Her betrayal reveals she was the Queen’s all along.” The second spat, brows furrowed in outrage at the mere thought of the Sorceress.

  
“That’s not what Lord Wolfson said.” The Third reasoned.

  
“Klein and her bitch didn’t come out.”

  
“They could have been captured… this woman looks tortured.”

  
“Then where is her little friend?”  
  
“We need to get this woman back to camp, regardless. Lady Altea will know what to do” The third cut off the arguments, clearing her throat afterwards. The soldiers all reached out, grabbing the lean figure. Her flesh was remarkably warm to the touch, almost as if the forest hadn’t even touched her. Carefully, the soldier’s worked to free the woman from the twisted roots of the tree, having to cut through the newer brambles that seemed to protect her figure. Slowly, they managed, finally able to pull her free and lay her carefully on the ground.  
The forest was cold. Still. Suspended in a held breath as if waiting for the war to come. Sunlight beat down through the canopy of leaves, illuminating the ground in layers of dappled shadows. Little stars of sunlight danced across the forest floor, trickling across the near naked figure of Helena Klein.

  
Helena’s face was swollen, unevenly shaded in blues and yellows to the sickly green of horrific bruising. The shape of a hand could be made out, harsh finger shapes that speared across her jaw and throat. Each mark was as harsh as a weapon, clashes that painted a battle of wills across her form. Even the most inexperienced individual could reason what had happened, unable to deny the tangible evidence of her violation.

  
“It is Klein.” The third gasped, unable to prevent herself reeling back in shock and horror.  
  
“It looks like she was tortured.” The first observed. His voice shook with unease, matching the horrified expression across his aging face.  
  
“She deserves worse. Do you remember how many she killed during the first war?” The Second growled. Rage flooded his young body, trembling in every tensed limb as his eyes danced over her. There was a level of calculation in them, as if he were considering how best to extract his own form of revenge.  
  
“I’ll go get lady Altea. Don’t act foolishly.” The third informed. She didn’t stay and wait for the men to argue. The sound of armor clinking filled the air as the soldier ran back to camp, each clunk fading further into the distance. The two remaining soldiers stared at each other, fury and discomfort colliding as they looked down to the woman. Brows lowered in consideration and calculation, creasing the faces of youthful rage and elderly fear. Without a voice of rationality, the silence became overwhelming. The balance tipped.  
  
“They wouldn’t notice another bruise on this bitch. Didn’t she kill your wife? You could get some payback.” The younger man enticed, lowering his focus to Helena once more.  
  
“You haven’t seen what she can do, lad. If she wakes up...” the elder trailed off, his voice pinched in panic. He began to tremble as he looked towards the horizon. Nervously, he shifted from foot to armored foot, almost as if he could fidget years of conditioned fear aside.  
  
“I hope you hear that in your nightmares, bitch, you killed this man’s wife! And his nephew! And my father! Nobody can save you fro-“ The youngest soldier had crouched down, snarling his words at her face as if he could puncture her with his words. By the time he was almost finished, he had reached out to poke the woman sharply in the side.  
  
That was his biggest mistake.  
  
Before he could realise what had happened, the shadows crept closer, moving on the gentle tide of the breeze. Like smoke, they swirled around his ankles, caressing his flesh in a way similar to the flickering tongues of a thousand serpents. He tried to pull away from the woman, from the shadows, yet he found himself immobilised, chained on a level beyond mere corporeal. His own shadow joined, its hands moving to his throat as his eyes widened in horror. His scream couldn’t be heard, lost to a place between reality and dreams as his shadow began to fade, weakening as it weakened him. Faintly, he became aware of his companion screaming, panicking, yet soon even that detail was lost to the black.  
  
The voices surrounding Helena were dim to her ears, the mumbling of a world she held no interest in. Their fear and hatred were knives, yet they couldn’t sever her heart from her chest. No blade could slice any deeper than the fact Kya was not beside her. Why had that foolish girl done that? They had almost been free, only for Kya to throw it away... for what? Her? Why did Kya have to throw herself to the wolves for Helena to be free? Was this the cost?   Would fate be so cruel as to allow Helena to break her chains, only to discover that every link was a heartbeat? That her heart was what kept her bound?  
  
_“-The Queen was right. Love is a chain.-“_ Helena silently lamented, swallowing the bitter irony in a single breath. If love was truly her prison, she at least had the most gilded cage in Kya. If she was to be a pet, she would rather the mistress who spoke gently. The woman who offered and took with equal desires. A mistress who cared more for Helena’s wellbeing than her immediate usefulness.  
  
All thoughts faded to a single path. A broken trail of glass to pierce her feet, the tallest mountain to shred her palms. Where she had sought peace, she now embraced war. Life and blood, a connected theory she had to draw from. What was a river of blood when she had filled an ocean? What was the life of a son when she had claimed his father already? She was no hero, not like everyone was demanding she be. Her power was guided by the virtue of her heart, which now resided in the Queen’s palms even as it beat in her chest. A constant tugging, dragging her towards the castle.  
  
The cold clung to her fingers in the gritty clumps of dirt, resisting her as she tightened her grip on the earth. Everything ached, screaming in protest as her shoulder blades rolled, the lean muscles of her back rippling into the first pull. She barely lifted enough to clear her stomach from the ground, using every ounce of her strength to manage that single motion. With a gasp, she fell to the ground. Her teeth clattered, her bones cracked and groaned as joints popped and clicked. The impact was worse than the original drag.  
  
“You killed him!” The first soldier’s cry reached Helena’s ears a mere moment before she felt a hand around her bicep.  
  
“No!” She shrieked, elegance lost in the violence of her cry. The forest shared her anguish, bursting to life with the cries of every bird nearby. The sound. The weight against her. It was too much. Soon, there would be cold. There would be pain. This man would have her, tear her until her blood stilled or the Queen saw fit to heal her. She wouldn’t stay torn, not when the Queen valued her beauty. Nobody would save her, nobody could comfort her.  
  
“KYA!” The name escaped her lips as a desperate plea. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she could escape as she often tried to. She could lose herself in the memories of playful kisses. Make pretend as she suffered.  
  
_“-If I don’t help her, Kya will...-“_ Helena couldn’t even finish her thought before she was acting.  
  
“Kya!” This time it was a battle cry. A reminder of what she stood to lose. Pain radiated down Helena’s back as she rolled to the side, gathering her knees towards her chest. As the soldier holding her staggered, Helena threw her feet out in the most vicious kick her body could conjure. Her bare toes cracked as her feet met armor. She didn’t wait to see what damage was inflicted, rolling onto her belly with an agonised cry. She burst into the most frantic crawl of her life, scrambling towards one goal. Helplessly called towards a missing fragment of her very soul.  
  
Her lungs burned, blistering in her chest as hot as the tears stinging her eyes. Tree roots and dirt fought Helena the entire way, making each inch a war. Damp leaves attacked her hips, dipping into every crevice of her body. A weak poke against her thigh. A wet tickling along her ear. Sticky muck clogging her belly button. A numbness creeping down her legs, until they trailed uselessly behind her.      
  
The world was a crawl around her, too much for her to register. Only forwards. Clawing closer and closer. Fight. Save. Rest.  
  
  
She couldn’t breathe. The world caved in on her shoulders, pressing her trembling body into the dirt.  
Helena could only stare at her hand as her head hit the ground. Her body shook, twitching with effort as she willed her disobedient fingers to curl. To hold. She had to fight. Wisps of magic formed around her palms, a physical manifestation of her desperation, a betrayal of her emotions as she began to shut down.  
  
_“-Have.... to....-“_  
  
Slower…  
  
Slower.  
  
Patterns danced in the blue and yellow of bruising, streaked with various depths of crimsons and browns. The splotches were alive, twisting in an underwater gleam of unshed tears and exhaustion. Helena couldn’t focus. Her breath came in short, pained gasps, each accompanied by a whimper as she fought for the next moment. One moment closer to Kya.  
  
The sound of footsteps rushing closer erased all hope for Helena. The orders given to the soldier’s sounded Helena’s defeat mere moments before more hands grasped her arms. The voices were wrong. Not Kya. But gentle... safe? There was something familiar about them, about the words spoken to her.  
  
“... where is Kya?”  
  
“Queen...” the word hurt for Helena to speak, driving home the most bitter truth yet. A nightmare more terrifying than her own years of suffering. She fought to give a full answer, her quivering voice reduced to strained whispers. Too much. Too loud. Too painful. Defeated.  
  
  
“Kya.” She tried once more. As if repeating the prayer might summon Kya back to her side. It was hopeless. A foolish wish for a helpless woman. A shell. Exhausted, Helena’s sapphire eyes finally slid shut.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've waded this far, thank you. I hope I haven't lost you yet.
> 
> I only plan for one more evil chapter before things get more hopeful, so don't expect this whole thing to be led weight and my long winded boohoo.
> 
> Song that inspired this Chapter.  
> Losing you - Dead by April (I used the 2010 acoustic version, but the normal version played a part for the action too. Both worked.)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hspSIoc0N9o  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MwNDJRjjIk


	4. Chapter 4 - Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at Helena in the camp.

Chapter 4

 

Three days.  
  
It had taken three days for Helena’s body to recover enough for her to leave the medical tent. Three days of panicked awakenings between troubled sleeps, of resisting treatment in fear of further pain. Three days of listening to lectures until she actually ate what she was given, albeit grudgingly.  
  
The walk across camp had been agonising. Each stride had torn her further from Kya, had caused her muscles to tighten and rebel. People had stared, speaking in loud whispers about the strange woman in clothes that were too small, with her bruised face burrowed into the safety of a common brown cloak.  
  
The command tent was a large, brown tent with the flaps held open. There was no cloth down on the ground, meaning Helena was able to make her way into the darkest corner and drop onto the compact dirt.  
  
In the centre of the tent was a large table, with a map spread across the surface. Some parts were weighed down with books, whilst others had lanterns perched, casting flickering shadows through the tent and over the paper oceans. On that map, several different coloured stone figures rested on different points, whilst others lingered between the fingers of the Retainers. The Retainers were heavily in debate, moving various figures as they discussed their plans and strategies. Armored and ready, they made quite an intimidating sight. Despite their battle-hardened appearances, their faces broke with concern as they looked between Helena and the older healer, who strode in after her. Silence hung in the air, threaded with tension and unspoken questions as gazes flickered back and forth. It was eventually Reiner who broke the silence.  
  
“Well?”  
  
“The precision of the scarring indicates that she was not resisting, or potentially restrained. I do not wish to presume, but between her internal scarring and behaviour, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had been systematically tortured for years. I imagine it is only her alchemical expertise that has limited the scarring.” The healer’s voice was wise, matching her silvery hair. The aged woman had been a kind yet stern healer, taking a vested interest in ensuring Helena’s health. Her meaty frame held deceptive strength, with callused hands capable of the gentlest touch. Almost motherly. She had never lost her temper, never raised her voice at how difficult Helena was. Instead, she’s simply kept her tone relaxed and her words concise. Even now she kept her voice even, yet her face contorted in discomfort as she continued to speak.  
  
“She hasn’t spoken, beyond trying to fend me off in her bursts of wakefulness, yet I am comfortable enough to say this woman was tortured extensively. The size of the handprints varied. I would say she had multiple attackers. Several injuries are consistent with a fight, yet there were burns across her skin that couldn’t have been caused without magic.”  
  
“I cannot imagine her merely accept a beating from simply anyone. This is Helena Klein we are discussing, not a hapless girl.” Isuel commented, his brows lowering over forest green eyes. Gone was his casualness, replaced with a tension that was evident through his lithe frame.  
  
“She was in the Service of the With Queen.” Searys reminded, his own expression unreadable. His multicoloured eyes appeared burdened, calculating what they were hearing and forming the mental image.  
  
“So the Queen beat her down and then?” August questioned. His armor creaked as he leaned his weight onto the table. The knight was putting on a brave face, yet everyone could see the tremor along his jaw. It was no jump to imagine August was picturing his sister in such a situation, given the fear glistening behind steely blue eyes.  
  
“She was viciously beaten, and violated.” The Healer simplified, giving everyone a meaningful, saddened look.  
  
“This woman was subjected to violent sexual contact. What is most disturbing is the lack of recent damage. When treating her, I discovered old scars. Evidently, they had been treated enough to keep her body intact and useful, but the pain of sustaining such injuries... my lord, I was horrified. Even our own soldiers were not so tormented. She fights any form of contact, especially to her naked flesh. Her body violently rejected me during my inspections. Without hearing it from her, we cannot be certain, but I believe her body has adapted to this treatment over years of frequent exposure. During the wars, for certain, possibly earlier.... this woman has suffered tremendously.”  
  
“And she hasn’t said anything at all?” Altea questioned hesitantly, her gaze drifting to Helena. Her face contorted in barely restrained rage, remembering when she had seen this before. Back then, Kya had lured her to safety, back into the present. A quick glance back to Isuel revealed the same concerns burning in his eyes, darkening his impeccably handsome face with the promise of war.  
  
“Other than broken sentence in her desperation to escape me, no. She does call for a Kya, however. The clothing you gave me managed to soothe her, providing she can keep smelling that cloak. I would not advise taking it away, less you wish to have a completely unresponsive woman. She can clearly hear and understand us, she simply is unable to sustain interaction. Or is unwilling. It is little wonder, given our theories.”  
  
“All those times we thought we had landed a victorious blow, we had just hit old injuries from the Queen.” Searys realised softly, shaking his head as he gazed upon the General responsible for the genocide of his race. She wasn’t the mighty monster with manic flames, she wasn’t even the soft spoken, tentative ally he was forced to reconcile. This Helena was just a broken child, as feeble and helpless as any demon who had begged for mercy as they were cut down.  
  
“No wonder she was so vicious upon the battlefield. Nothing is more dangerous than a cornered wolf.” Isuel sighed, sadness and rage warring across his face.  
  
“Beaten by us, only to go back to a rapist... how did we never see this before?” Altea demanded harshly, brows furrowing over her golden eyes as fear and anger flooded her. A few years and different choices parted them. She just as easily could have become like Helena, had she not found Reiner. More importantly, Helena could have become like her given a kinder life. That knowledge weighed her down, even as she watched the Sorceress tilt her head, almost akin to a hound listening to its master approaching.  
  
“Kya said that any thought of disobedience was to court worse than death. I did not truly understand her. I let the council order her back into the jaws of her worst nightmare.” Reiner admitted softly, his voice filled with regret as he watched the Sorceress stiffen.  
  
“I failed to kill a child wizard. Embarrassed her. She had to make me stronger. Teach me. I couldn’t reject her generosity. Not when she could stand to look at something like me. But Kya... she is going to hurt my Kya... my...” Helena’s starting laugh was bitter, sharp on the air as she lifted her head enough to speak. As she spoke, she crumbled, falling to soft sniffles as she allowed her nose to fall into the wool of the cloak she held so closely to her heart.  
  
Whatever power Helena once possessed was hidden, withdrawn into her protective shell. Her shoulders curled under the weight of a simple linen shirt, which was too short for her long limbs. Her bare forearms hugged around her knees, which she had lifted to her chest. The cuffs of the pants rested a good few fingers above the tops of low boots, which evidently didn’t fit correctly. On the tops of her knees lingered the bundled-up cloak, which Helena burrowed her face into after speaking so boldly. She could still faintly smell Kya in the cloth, remember how it had flown when the girl walked. How Kya had tossed it aside to dance properly with Helena in the forest and unclipped it when Helena stripped down at the Falke family inn. She could almost hear Kya’s delighted laughter, feel the girl’s thighs and belly rubbing against her own as they attempted to tickle one another.  
  
If she just closed her eyes, focused a little more, she could lose herself in that reality.  
  
But the truth was those moments were gone. In a single foolish act, Kya had forsaken her chance at freedom. She had thrown herself willingly to the wolves to ensure Helena’s escape, mindless of the fact that escape was worthless without Kya by her side. Helena would have endured a thousand nights with the Queen for just a stolen breath in the same room as Kya. Why did Kya think her actions were acceptable? Why did Kya make that choice for Helena?  
  
_“-Why? Why, why, why?-“_  
  
“Silly Sorceress,” Kya laughed, her voice filled with tender warmth as she nuzzled up under Helena’s jaw. Kya’s lips met the tender flesh, peppering the most loving kisses along the bone to Helena’s chin. Her touch was warmth. Not merely warm, but the existence of warmth itself. Kya’s gentle presence was every feeling that allowed Helena to fight for another day, the reason for her happiness.  
  
“I would do it again in a heartbeat.”  
  
“Why?” Was all Helena could ask. Her voice trembled, almost lost to the din of the camp. Reality was a blur for Helena, who did not dare open her eyes less she miss a moment. Instead, she allowed herself to feel. To drown in the love of her life. The security of the smaller woman’s weight pressed into her side, the tickle of silky locks down her exposed collar, even the top of her breasts. Helena indulged the sense of soft, warm lips against her flesh, tingling with delight once the cold air nipped at the moisture left behind. The gentle, playful love that bloomed with such lazy content.  
  
“Because I love you.” Kya’s response was predictable and yet it still made Helena’s body skip a moment, rendered her speechless and powerless in the most delicious ways.  Kya punctuated her reason with a gentle kiss to the corner of Helena’s mouth. The Sorceress turned her head, greeting Kya’s lips with her own. She didn’t need to see to know that Kya was smiling, not when she could run her tongue along the curve of such an expression. She didn’t need to breathe to feel alive, not when the softest sigh of blissful content was adrenaline to her heart. Such a foolish gesture coupled with simple words filled Helena more than any banquet ever could even as they left her ravenous. She craved more. Always more, always deeper into the mystery of love and acceptance. She had to take everything she could, only to return it with everything she was.  
  
She was greedy, clinging to the younger woman with no intent to ever let go. Unconsciousness could claim her before she let Kya’s lips leave hers. It inspired her to seek more, pressing desperately into the contact. It was only the supple pressure between her teeth which allowed her to realise she had captured Kya’s bottom lip. Instantly, she was flooded with the urge to bite down. To dig her teeth into the flesh. She could force Kya to stay. Could prevent the inevitable loss if she just took that choice away. If she was completely in control. If she just gave into the urge to clamp down. To claim and devour. Of course, she wouldn’t ever give into those dark voices in the back of her mind. She could never do more than gently nip, a small demand for Kya to pay attention. A plaintive gesture as harmless as a pup desperate for affection. Helena’s lips had suffered other’s teeth too much, possessive and uninvited. Even here, where a blink would shatter the illusion and reduce it to dust, Helena couldn’t violate Kya in that way. She would never even try.  
  
“This isn’t real.” The words were a physical sword in Helena’s mouth, cutting every nerve of her tongue as she spoke. How she wished she could take them back the moment she said them, bathe in the contentment of her fantasy and forget the chilling reality. Forget how her stomach felt heavy, how her chest was sucked towards her breaking heart, how her body tore itself apart in an effort to fill a void that only grew with each passing moment.  
  
“I don’t care,” Kya’s voice was choked, catching on every emotion despite the confidence in her words.  
  
“I get to be with you. No matter what happens, so long as you’re safe then I will survive.”  
  
“Kya...” Helena didn’t know what to say, how to fight the way her body began to tighten in fear. She had to open her eyes, had to attack and fight. Get away. Escape this horror. The world was dark, blackness sweeping around even darker shades. Nothing would have form, no reason or logic. That moment in a world without Kya may as well have been eternity, a drain on Helena’s soul. Her hands began to shake, her skin tightened around her fingers until she felt she couldn’t even move them an inch. The overwhelming sensations stopped as a gentle hand blanketed her own. Light fingertips rubbed soft circles into her palm, gliding down her wrist in such a way the tensions began to fade. Kya’s touch seemed to trace the magic simmering in Helena’s veins, drawing it towards the surface with every swirl.  
  
“Helena, you said it yourself. I’m burned into your soul, and you into mine. Even if I die here, you’ll still hold onto a part of me.” Kya was gentle yet sure. Helena felt the tickle against her throat as Kya’s head found its place on her shoulder. The crown of Kya’s head fit perfectly under Helena’s chin, supporting the Sorceress as she allowed the weight of her head to fall. Her arms, which she didn’t remember wrapping around Kya tightened, cradling the smaller body into her constricted chest.  
  
“Do not talk such nonsense! I am coming for you, Kya. Just hold on, do whatever you must to stay alive... even... even if that means-“  
  
“Is she going to rape me?” Kya’s voice went quiet, the whimper of a terrified girl. All at once, the air was cold. It was ice shards sliding down Helena’s throat. She couldn’t make her voice work. Kya’s head pushed against her throat, restricting her breath as she gulped. It hurt to swallow, hurt to try and breathe, but without breath her head felt lighter and lighter in the most disastrous way. No longer grounded, nothing tethering her. Her prolonged silence was answer enough for Kya, who stiffened slightly at Helena’s side before she snuggled even closer. Helena felt the breath against her collar, the long, terrified exhale before she heard the softest whisper.  
  
“Is it going to hurt?”  
  
That question was agony. Gods, Helena wanted to lie. The reassurances and pleasantries lingered on her tongue, sweet yet poisoned. What if Kya believed her lies? Were a few stolen moments of reassurance worth the surprise of what agony Kya would face? Would Kya feel betrayed? Could that be a distraction, or would it be the detail to break Kya? Could Helena even force herself to lie to her soulmate?  
  
“Yes.” Helena’s honest response was soft, even as she tightened her embrace. It was a helpless gesture; the only thing Helena could do to even attempt to shield her lover. Maybe, here in her mind, that embrace could be enough to protect Kya from the nightmare they were living. The feeling of Kya’s skin beneath her hands steadied her, even when she felt the muscles tighten and flinch beneath her palms.  
  
“Well... you’ve tied me up and done kinky stuff... maybe I can just pretend it’s you.” Kya began, voice trembling as she wrapped her own arms around Helena’s torso.  
  
“The Queen... it isn’t that you don’t want her touch that is the worst... it is that she can make you enjoy it even as it disgusts you. She takes away everything you can control and twists it. You’ll like it, Kya... she won’t leave you unsated.” Helena informed, swallowing a few times. Her stomach tightened, almost forcing its contents up through her throat. Even out of the Queen’s grasp, she shuddered, as if she could feel the ice creeping down her stomach.  
  
“She won’t use her hands to chain you... she doesn’t need to. She won’t soften the rope, or care if the bindings are too tight. Once you beg for whatever she demands, it is over. When you submit is when the pain becomes... intolerable... the longer you resist, the harsher she makes her punishments. Pleading earlier only means she has more time to enjoy your torment. Regardless, she will have her fill.” Helena informed, struggling to keep her tone clinical and disconnected. She could remember each time Kya had requested ropes. How cautious she had been to ensure they were never tight enough to hurt, that the ropes summoned wouldn’t chafe or scar. That everything was soft, an illusion of power instead of complete dominance.  
  
“I’ll bite her fingers off.” Kya spat, stiffening with rage. Helena couldn’t help the flicker of a smile that danced across her lips, the jolt of delight she felt at the conviction in Kya’s darkened words. She had long believed that she feared darkness after the Queen, yet the darkness in Kya was equally as alluring as her virtue. A secret between them that helped guard their hearts.  
  
“If it is not her, she will share you among the Generals... if she won’t be pleased, she will be entertained.”  
  
“Did sh-?”  
  
“Kya. I won’t let her destroy you. I will fight for you.” Helena cut Kya off, unwilling or unable to answer the half-finished question. She didn’t want to think about it. Could barely imagine Kya in the positions she had been forced into for so long.  
  
“Will you still love me, if others have-“  
  
“Always! My Gentle heart, you are not afraid of what was done to me, do not judge me as worthless. How could I ever view you as less, knowing it is my fault this...” Helena trailed off, a sob escaping her as she burrowed her nose into Kya’s hair. She couldn’t stop the tears trailing down her cheeks, stinging her chilled flesh as she inhaled. She couldn’t smell Kya’s hair, in truth, the memory of the scent was already fading. Becoming whimsical fancy.  
  
“Then, I need you. Come claim  
me.” Kya’s voice was still soft, filled with tears as well as she clung to Helena for an extra moment. It was a few heartbeats of broken peace before sensations began to fade. The warmth and security was torn away, blistering into the agony of healing gashes and slashes. Sound became stronger, ringing more clearly in Helena’s ears.  
  
“We can mobilise within the week. Any sooner is suicidal, my lord.” August was talking, informing Reiner of their troops even as the other retainers poured over their map. The sounds became sharper, the screeching of steel on steel that crescendoed into Helena’s waking conscious. The voices were clear, continuing from the group of Retainers as Helena blinked, centring herself for a few moments in reality. As expected, Kya was not by her side.  
  
A week? That was unacceptable. Too long to be without warmth. Too long to wait for her heart to be returned to her chest, her soulmate to her arms. Kya didn’t have that week, plus however long the march would take. Every minute was two minutes too long for Kya to be alone in that vile bitch’s grasp. For every moment they waited, the Queen had longer to run her fingers over Kya’s flesh. To greet her thighs and flanks with knives as magic burned every nerve in her body. Would that week fade into years? Would Kya be exposed to the bruises down her thighs from fighting? The torn nails from clawing at the ropes? Would her own muscles cramp and clench as she rebelled against every advance? Worse, would that damage haunt her as it still haunted Helena? Would they both be reduced to desperation for their lover’s touch, yet their body still resisting the moment desire licked at their senses? How deeply would the Queen scar Kya within that week?  
  
“Unacceptable...” Helena spoke, barely registering the instant silence in the wake of her words. Fires flickered all around her, potential deep beneath the ground. Blazing halos of possibility if only Helena willed them into a new direction. If she took from those too weak to use their strength. If she claimed. Devoured. Destroyed.  
  
The choice was easy. With a single breath, she tightened her will around the sparks, harnessing her existence into a single purpose. Whatever blazed within her was overwhelming, stronger than anything she had summoned under the Queen’s reign. Where her magic had demanded control, this maelstrom was beyond the need for direction. Its existence alone was the path to her heart.  
  
Helena took that first stride along the path, a vision of the past. A silhouette of shadows and manic glee. A witch of immeasurable power. With hair of moonlight, and impenetrable eyes of midnight black.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Chapter inspiration for this was  
> "I will fail you" by Demonhunters.  
> ALSO  
> My Last Breath - Evanescence  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpbDi00sJDc


	5. Chapter 5 - Defiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kya is finally brought before the Queen for her punishment.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> Mentions of rape  
> Mental Manipulation.  
> Rape Under Duress  
> Forced Consent.  
> Dark themes.  
> Strong language.  
> ITS THE FRICKEN QUEEN. She is one sick, sick bitch.
> 
> Song Inspiration for this chapter  
> Done for you - Black Veil Brides  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jR3cFnCF7j4

_“-I’m scared.-“_ Kya’s thoughts rung true. She was so, so scared. Terrified.   Everything hurt and yet she could feel nothing but the knot in her stomach. The way bile threatened to erupt up her throat with each painful breath. Bile in clumps too large to pass through her mouth, too large to escape and yet small enough that they didn’t suffocate her, just made it near impossible to breathe.  
  
She hung in the grasp of two guards, naked toes barely touching the ground as they hauled her through the halls by her arms. Her head hung limply, bowed in a silent defiance despite her weakness. The light burned her eyes as it poured through windows, glistening with little dust particles captured in natural beams. She didn’t even attempt to make it easy for her escorts, quite the opposite. She allowed her weight to drop, allowed her feet to bounce and knock the backs of their calves and ankles. She didn’t have the will to kick, but her choice to remain unresponsive was strangely satisfying. A faint hum as she tried to let the castle fade from memory. To find a place she felt as if she was worth something. A place to fly.  
  
“Be brave, my love. I am coming for you. They cannot break you.” Helena’s soft words echoed in mind, resonating within her soul. The comforting tones filled her, flooding over every sensation of fear.  
  
_“-Even imagining her makes things better.-“_  
  
It was true. Just imagining Helena’s comforting words was helping her clear the fog. Remembering how the light caught across her lips when she smiled, or the gleam in her sapphire eyes as she allowed herself a moment of laughter. The way her long, controlled fingers moved so effortlessly across her skin, soothing aches even Kya didn’t know she had until callused palms swept them away. Even when Helena delivered bad news, her honesty and concern softened the blow.  
  
Helena couldn’t lie, even if at this point she was a figment of hopeful escape. She had told Kya what was going to happen, how the Queen was going to pick at the fabric of her being until nothing was left unscathed. Helena’s presence wrapped around Kya like a cloak, shielding her from the cold as she was dragged down familiar halls. A right here. Left at the cracked window. Familiar doors finally greeted Kya as she opened her eyes, hanging out of the guards hold around her biceps... wait. Familiar?  
  
_“-Oh... Fuck.-“_ Kya’s mind rapidly caught up as she was hauled through those doors, right to the familiar baby blue sheets she had seen so many times in her nightmares when she thought of how Helena had suffered. Those sheets where Helena had taken her higher than the stars for the first time. She was thrown as if she weighed nothing, landing right on the bed where she and Helena had first kissed. A safe place in a nest of vipers.  
  
The lighting was somehow both soft and harsh. Similar to the UVs of a reptile display at the Zoo. The gentlest off blue white in colour and yet so deceptively intense that its soft shades began to eat at ones vision the longer one looked. It was almost ethereal how the walls glowed, emanating a disarming white gleam that blended into the greys of shadows. The furnishing had been removed, leaving the walls barren save for some mirrors which reflected the light of a broken chandler. Along one of the walls was a row of divans, each occupied by one of the Generals. Out of their armor, they should have been less intimidating, yet the gleam in their hungry eyes made Kya’s skin crawl, a thousand spiders crawling along the soft hairs of her arms.  
  
Before she could even register the complete situation, she felt a hand around the back of her neck, nails digging into the sensitive flesh behind her ears and along her scalp. Baby hairs pulled taught in tiny pricks of escalating agony. Her temples throbbed, her veins began to writhe beneath her skin as if they were maggots within her flesh. The horror only lasted a second before the sounds struck. Screams. A thousand layers of the same voice, some wordless, some begging. Some whimpers and broken tones mixed with defiance and desire. The most prominent sound however was her name, whimpered like a prayer and shrieked like a curse.  
  
Helena’s pain was a landslide in Kya’s mind. Decades of agony all given voice at once, until the sounds mixed together in a muddy goop that drowned everything. Like slime through ones fingers, Kya felt the sounds gliding down her body, filling her ears with an insistent pressure that made her head feel as if it might cave. A young Helena’s screams of anguish, a groan of pain quickly concealed beneath desire. Avoid punishment. The timber of intoxication on a husky yet hollow voice, forming words so scandalous that Kya’s ears burned with conflicted rage. The words were hollow. Forced.  Repeated instead of meant. Then, the worst. A breath out, a name exhaled in a moment of utter desperation. Helena’s voice cracked, barely a whisper through blood and bile gurgling in her throat. Kya’s name, a prayer and reminder of what was to be lost.  
  
What was worse for Kya than hearing Helena in pain was the fire in her veins. The delicious thrill. For a moment, her heart pounded as if she were a wolf who had finally downed the rabbit. Her toes curled, muscles pulled so taught they could be mistaken for the strings of a lute, an instrument to be played as expertly as the Queen had wrung such sounds from Helena.  
  
“No!” Kya’s own voice was rough as she tore herself free of that grasp, throwing her entire body back into the pillows to escape both horrors. Her fist gathered, clenching the sheets until her knuckles lost all colour. Until her nails threatened to bite through cloth and flesh alike. The soft blues were calming, embalmed with the scent of home. As Kya lifted her head, she realised even this small comfort was defiled. Flicks and splotches of purplish browns. Dried. Cracking. Hardened crust against the soft material. Kya couldn’t help but let her head fall, pressing into the pillow with all her strength as if it might save her.  
  
“You should thank me. For letting you know Helena as intimately as I do. Making you feel as I felt.” The Queen’s voice was friendly, almost cheerful. It was such a tone that may have been heard from Queen Ishara discussing the finer points of drinking.  
  
“You never had intimacy, you sick bitch.” Kya bit back, lifting her head to bare her teeth at the Queen. Obsidian locks hung over Kya’s face, greasy, clinging to the sweat beading across her forehead. The filthy smears across Kya’s face did little to phase the Queen, even as flint coloured eyes darkened with unmatched fury. The Queen spoke of sex. Not of intimacy. She couldn’t have known which side of the bed Helena preferred, or the fact she detested overly soft pillows. She couldn’t name Helena’s favourite foods, or describe her sleepy smiles. She knew Helena’s unreciprocated devotion but nothing of returning.  
  
“Because she loves you?” The Queen questioned. She was the picture of deadly grace, twisting the rings on her fingers she circled the bed, moving so fluidly that Kya could’t help but become captivated. The Queen’s elegance was enough to remind Kya of everything she was not. A silent smack in the face. A reminder that the Queen owned everything you were in this room. Dominated. Seized. Already, she had flexed that power in the dungeons, controlling every human necessity nonchalantly. What was so dull for her was life for those beneath her heeled shoes, which clacked against the floor with every slow stride she took.  
  
“Don’t be foolish. She said the same to me. Whimpered she loved me in the night, only to betray me. Time and time again, she lied, failing to so what she promised. All because she wanted to be mine. It kept me occupied with her instead of Alain, allowed her more time to try and sway my heart. She will always want more. Isn’t that what you promised her? To be more than she was by my side?”  
  
_“-She’s wrong!-“_ Kya’s mind screamed, even as the girl tightened her jaw in a defiant glare. The jarring pressure of grinding teeth did little to sway Kya’s mind, which continued to scream. She had offered Helena choices, shown Helena kindness instead of demanding. Helena never asked of anything, never took without consent.  
  
_“-Is she? I gave her more of my heart, more of my body. More control.-“_ Kya reasoned, wincing at the train of thought she had hopped on. Was she REALLY doing this? Thinking about what the Queen had said instead of defending her lover? The idea made her stomach feel heavy, as if weighted sludge was pooling within her gut. Anytime she moved, so did that horrid sloshing sensation. Building until between her breast felt sharp and full, riding up her throat.  
  
“You’re beginning to understand. Helena only wants more power. She will do anything to attain it. Without me, she can destroy on a whim. I gave her purpose. Discipline. Reason.” The Queen purred, her painted blue lips swishing upwards into a casually cruel smirk.  
  
_“-And you took her sense of self! Her choices. Her humanity. Her freedom! Yes I gave Helena more, but not what she is saying. I gave her choice, treated her as a human. I gave her more, by helping her find what the Queen destroyed.-“_ Kya realised. With a soft breath, she steeled herself, otherwise remaining silent. If the Queen had ever stood a chance of dividing, she seemed to realise she had lost it. Her body language hardened, eyes darkening to match Kya’s as she reached out.  
  
“If you will not bend, then you will break.” The Queen hummed, her tone laced with a vicious edge. Her fingers landed on Kya’s knee, stroking the inside with delicate circles. The Queen’s nails were akin to talons, toying with the mouse before digging in. Kya jerked, attempting to kick the Queen in a panicked reaction. Her leg moved half a foot before it came to an abrupt halt, jolting down Kya’s entire limb to her hip. Serpents pulled on her body, tearing at her struggling limbs until her back collided with the mattress. Kya felt the worn dip in the bed, the ghost of Helena’s presence embracing her as the Queen’s other hand snatched her wrists.  
  
“You are mine to do with as I please. If I wish for your suffering, you will suffer. If I desire your joy, it shall be mine. Everything you are is mine... I am inclined to remind you of this.” The Queen snarled, allowing her weight to fall over Kya’s body as she pinned the younger woman’s wrists above her head. Kya could only hiss at the tightening of ropes, binding her so tightly she felt her fingers tingle and swell. Helena had warned her that the Queen would not care for her limbs, but to feel that indifference was more jarring than Kya had expected. The way her arms were stretched forced her chest upwards, made it difficult to take a full breath.  
  
“Bitch, please. You are so full of yourself you could be a spit roasted h-“ wherever Kya’s retort could have gone was cut off by a pained cry as the Queen’s grasp tightened. A sharp pain bloomed in Kya’s forearm, followed by a sticky warmth that began to trickle. The Queen calmly brought her hands down to Kya’s chest, resting her weight on them as she intently watched Kya’s face contort. Kya herself couldn’t breathe, clamping her eyes shut before opening them wide in a desperate effort to compute the sudden sensations. The sharp stinging in her forearms, the crushing weight across her breasts... that weight. The Queen’s hands. This she could focus on. This she could figure out. It was a sensation that was a mix of familiarity and foreignness. Familiar size. Foreign pressure. Kya’s emotions tangled, confusion and disgust lacing fear and rage.  
  
“You know, this gives a WHOLE new definition to fucking yourself.” Kya snarked, giving her best attempt at casual bitchiness. Just as she had seen in a million chick flicks she had binged with Sophie. At this, the Queen froze, her face shifting for a brief moment. Her brows twitched, pale eyes dilated, almost as if she had suppressed a gasp of absolute alarm.  
  
_“-Gotcha.-“_ Kya mentally celebrated, though that didn’t last long. The Queen quickly recomposed herself, offering a victorious sneer as she leaned closer. Close enough for her lips to just touch against Kya’s. Not a kiss, a threat. Allowing Kya to feel every word formed as if it were her own.  
  
“I could have my guards do it instead.”  
  
“You’re bluffing. I look like you. It would be on everyone’s mind, picturing you as the poor little woman. You wouldn’t sacrifice your image for that.” Kya spat, her brows lowering as she glared up into pale eyes. The Queen’s eyes appeared almost white, colourless save the veins spidering within. Kya could see the Queen calculating those words, digesting the attitude that Kya had shown. The Queen disguised how thrown she was well, yet Kya saw the subtlest shifts in her expression. Annoyance and admiration mixed into a cocktail of villainous intent.  
  
“I can be merciful. When the world ceases its petty rebellion, I will not strike Helena down like the ungrateful beast she is. I will keep her alive, housed in the finest rooms. Given the best meals. I will treat her as my favoured pet, as some would treat their Queen... I will even reunite you.  I will gift you both a room across from one another so that you can always see, but never again touch.” The Queen began her monolog, drifting into a villainous speech as her hands tightened. Kya couldn’t prevent her scream at the bruising grip, each finger pressing down on the Queen’s rings. The gems and designs pressed against Kya’s flesh, blunt yet slowly stretching the skin. Leaving her branded with the imprints.  
  
“Every night, you will be privileged to watch my loyal generals have Helena, to fill her with their seed until a child is born. A boy with her magic. I will preserve your youth whilst Helena ages, allow you to stay young as she withers before your eyes.  As her child grows into my finest General/ Then, when he is of suitable age, I will keep my promise.  I will reward him with a body identical to the Queen he so blindly adores. He will come here, to this room, to this very bed, to you. A generation between lovers. Tragic, is it not? To be woven together, yet forever parted? The only way you could have Helena, would be her son.   Then, once you birthed Helena’s grandchild, I will take that child for my own. They will be my finest creation. Helena’s magic and my blood. I will have a General who will never fail me, never abandon me.” The Queen spoke as a woman possessed, desire and passion sliding in icy shades beneath her tones. For just a few seconds, Kya could see the broken-hearted woman.   The scorned and rejected noble who unravelled into the disastrous Bitch Queen.  
  
“You’re crazy! Insane! You shouldn’t be on a throne, you should be in an asylum!” Kya spoke without thought. It was true, the Queen had apparently lost her shit. Lost any semblance of sanity. The Queen often spoke of cruelty, offering threats and punishments like candy. But this? A human breeding ring for her own ambitions? Turning Helena into a baby factory for perfect magical Generals? Using Kya as a surrogate? This was beyond anything the Queen had ever said. It was something so entirely out of the blue, out of character, that Kya was completely thrown. How could one respond to that?  
  
Despite the horror, Kya couldn’t help but let her mind wander for a moment. Could there be a way for her and Helena to have children? Who would carry the baby? What would Helena look like pregnant? Would she glow, wisps of magic flicking in the air like a halo as she and Kya fawned over a swollen belly? What would THEIR child look like? Would it be a beautiful little girl with Helena’s intelligent eyes and obsidian hair? Or a young man with heartbreaking stormy grey eyes and white gold hair?  
  
Was she sick for wanting that? Even for a second? What was wrong with her? How could she daydream when she was literally spread out for torture?  
  
“Why” Was all Kya could squeak. She couldn’t breathe. The Queen’s weight was focused against Kya’s chest, rings pushing so hard against Kya’s skin that it became a question of which would break first. Her ribs, or her flesh. Within a few more pressured moments, Kya had her answer. Pain exploded in Kya’s chest as she felt her skin split slowly, torn under the blunt pressure. Everything blurred. She couldn’t focus. All she could do was suffocate under the Queen’s smile, drown in her voice.  
  
“Love is weak, it is an unreliable tether. You have shown me this... the loyalty of a child to their mother, however, is considered the strongest force in the world, aside from me. I would not have time to go through birthing a child, being removed from my throne. Fortunately, I have you. I should thank you, Kya. If not for you, I would have suspected Helena the best I could settle for.” The Queen concluded egotistically, her pale eye flashing triumphantly. Kya screamed, jerking her head left and right as she tried to writhe away from the sheer agony emanating from the Queen’s punishing grasp. Every time Kya’s eyes cracked open, the Queen’s picture perfect evil smirk filled her vision. It taunted her, playing in the flashes behind her closed eyes.

 

“How can you be so broken inside?  How can you even think these things and tell them to me like you’re actually proud of yourself?  How could you take someone as kind as Helena and try to twist her into a monster like you?”

 

“Because she was mine, and she deserved every second of her fate.” Was the Queen’s calm response.  
  
Beyond sense, trapped and enraged, Kya launched, digging her teeth into that smirk. Heat filled her mouth instantly, rushing down her throat. It tickled, causing her to cough and splutter. Her teeth clattered together roughly as the Queen lurched back, tearing her lip free. Her hand pushed on Kya’s jaw, deflecting the girl as she snapped again and again. Frenzied grunts and snarls escaped Kya, until she finally managed to seal her teeth around the Queen’s palm. This time, the burst of heat and salt against her tongue didn’t throw her. As enraged voices filled the void Kya had left, she clenched her jaw with every ounce of strength she had left in her body. The Queen had used those hands to scar Helena, to mark everywhere Helena had felt safe... including Kya. Those hands left no escape, offered nothing but destruction. Helena hadn’t fought this way, yet she fuelled the war Kya raged. She had to see Helena again. Had to survive. Had to protect.  
  
It ended when the Queen wrenched her hand free with an enraged shriek, trailing off into panting as she lifted her hand to inspect the bleeding trench left behind. Kya too panted, greedily sucking in every gulp of air she could. She had to close her eyes, take that next breath through the haze. Her entire body was a live wire of adrenaline, her muscles twitched and leapt beneath her skin. Even exhausted, Kya could feel her body warming, blood flowing more freely right to the restraints. Her fingers tingled as more blood flow was restricted, causing her wrists to swell around the coarse rope binding her down.  
  
The first thing Kya actively realised is that digging her teeth into the Queen’s hand had not felt too different from a reheated roast. Hotter, moving, yet the texture itself was similar enough she could have fooled herself.  
  
The next thing was that in the struggle, she had somehow ended up on her stomach once again. Face down, nose forced into Helena’s pillow.  
  
“You insolent little harpy! You dare strike me!” The Queen shrieked indignantly, staring down at Kya as if she were an animal. Deathly intent bloomed in the Queen’s face as she backed away from the bed, bleeding palm still raised in disbelief. Crimson ran down snowy flesh, dripping down the crook of her elbow to drip on the floor.  
  
“B-bite me, bitch.” Kya managed to grit out, spitting several times in an effort to clear her own mouth of blood. It stained her teeth, defining each individual tooth between lines of washed out pink. Crimson ran down the corner of her mouth, across her cheek.  
  
“I promised mercy... choose.” The Queen stated in return, ignoring the snark.  
  
“Choose?” Kya questioned. It made no sense. Choose what? Which part of her body the Queen would bite?  
  
“Which General will have you. If you do not, then they all shall have their turn.” The Queen’s words chilled Kya to the core.  
  
_“-Choose a General to...-“_ she couldn’t even finish the though. A thousand concepts rushed through her mind, calculating so quickly that her temples began to throb. She had to invite one General, or suffer them all... one General who would likely be under orders to have her again and again, no matter what she said. What if the Queen wanted this to be the first child in her sickly little project? What face would Kya have to stare into with that baby before it was torn away?  
  
Lennox might be the humorous option. After his injury, it would likely cause him just as much pain as it would her... but he would be vengeful for such an insult to his manhood. Lennox enjoyed inflicting pain, wished for endless rivers of blood. He would hurt her for more than pleasure, he would get entertainment out of it. Satisfaction.  
  
Magnus too had issues. His pride had been wounded time and time again by Kya’s sharp words, and her headbutt. He sought war in every action he took. Surely, he would strive to hurt Kya beyond the act, to insert his own form of vengeance... not to mention Golem liked like a supermodel compared to Magnus. That man was just all around ugly.  
  
Jinhai was possibly a good choice. His pointed ears would likely infuriate the Queen if she had to raise the child. That choice might make the Queen second guess herself. But Helena had humiliated him, Kya had only thrown a love potion at his wolves. Helena had bested him. Shown him she had power over his life, then dropped him in the dirt. Left him to suffer the Queen’s wrath. A Queen to whom he owed very little allegiance. He enjoyed that his cruelty was unbridled under the Queen’s reign. A relationship of convenience verses devotion.  
  
Contemplating devotion.  
  
Alain was the safest choice. He was not cruel and heartless, he took no pleasure in his actions. His entire motivation hinged around his love for his former friend, the woman the Queen had been. He would never willingly harm her, and Kya looked the part. But, to pick Alain would mean picking the man who had rivalled Helena for years. The man who constantly made her fight for the affections of a madwoman.  
  
_“-Helena would prefer colour than to look at another’s devotion to her ex... if I picked Alain, it would be reopening those wounds. Could she even look at me?-“_  
  
“I grow impatient.” The Queen’s voice tore Kya from her thoughts.  
  
_“-This is exactly what she wants.-“_ Kya realised. For the Queen to make this choice would be simpler, it would cause pain that could be blamed on the Queen alone. But this choice? It was not between Generals, not truly. It was Between Helena and Herself. If she chose any General but Alain, Kya would be sacrificing herself. Condemning herself to complete and utter brutality. She would be choosing to suffer instead of later hurting Helena. But Alain? He was the selfish choice. He wouldn’t be excessive. He would only do precisely what needed to be done. His skin was pale like Helena’s, his hair moonlight and eyes blue. He could have been her brother... but if he were to have Kya, that would be as if Kya had chosen him in the castle over Helena.  
  
_“-Helena told me to do anything to stay alive. Even if it meant... forgive me, babe, please.-“_ Kya’s mind sobbed even as she forced her face to go blank. She turned her gaze to the Queen as best she could, watching the satisfaction and confidence dance across the Queen’s face. It was nauseating to Kya, to realise how predictable her response would be the moment before she gave it.  
  
“Alain... I chose Alain.” Kya was amazed her voice remained level. Internally, she screamed, akin to a rampaging teenager destroying her room in a tantrum. Her stomach was quicksand, churning and slushing in her belly as she fought the urge to vomit. She’d done it. Really done it. Done something to save herself despite knowing how deeply it could cut Helena. That enough was consuming her, turning the world into an unpleasant blur around her. Making the Queen’s harsh taunts merely echoing nonsense sounds from a distance.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
************ Warning. While non graphic there are Triggers for forced consent ahead along with internalized self blaming.  You may skip and it will not effect understanding of this fic.******************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
When Kya thought of rape, she pictured violence. She pictured screaming and tearing, imagined herself in indescribable pain as she was torn apart, as another took what they wanted selfishly from her unwilling body. That was not Alain. He was gentle, so very, very gentle. He took his time, touching her slowly until she couldn’t stop herself from responding. He had prepared her as best he could under the circumstances, comforted her softly with numerous apologies and reassurances under his breath as he leaned over her. Concealing his concern and reluctance from the Queen as he prepared to mount Kya in her honor. Kya expected pain, expected her body to violently reject the intruder pinning her down. Yet, his touch coaxed the softest sounds from her, enough for her to bloom open. To accept.  
  
_“-No. Don’t let me do this. I’m Helena’s, not his. I can’t! Please let it hurt! Let me hate it!-“_  
  
All she could do was clench her teeth around the pillow, burrow her nose and cheek into the familiar scent. Helena. She clung desperately to that image, of times she had been in this position with Helena behind her. She could remember the sense of magic across her skin, sparks literally dancing inside her when Helena’s patience snapped, filling her in every meaning of the word. Always tender despite its lethality. Helena left her soul inside Kya, a fullness that felt as physical as any limb or toy that could be introduced to their bed. Their mishaps were sincere, moments of laughter where they both were open and vulnerable. Discoveries made together, fought for through a war of Helena’s torment. Every touch had been earned, had a story that made them all the more special. Nobody had EVER had Helena the way Kya had. Helena’s pleasure, her whimpers and pleading. It was all Kya’s to claim.  Just as Kya’s were all for Helena. Even with the occasional bruise or scratch when they got over excited, there was always that delightful need to be closer that guided their movements.  
  
_“-Don’t think about Helena!-“_ Kya tried to school herself, tried to prevent the shivers of delight at the next sensations to flood her body. Thinking of Helena was an escape, but also the worst curse. Each memory was heat, numbing her to her fears as desire began to claw its way through her emotions. She wanted Helena and her body reacted to that desire eagerly.  
  
There was no such want with Alain. Kya couldn’t reach for him when he rocked forwards. She could only let her head jerk against the pillow and tighten her bite as she attempted to use her mind to escape. To replace the harsh breaths and soft grunts with memories of Helena’s. That felt wrong. It helped a tsunami of nausea build within her gut along with arousal. Despite Alain’s gentleness, it was wrong. The wrong weight behind her, the wrong thighs against her legs. The wrong hands trying to coax her reactions. The wrong grip on her hips. The wrong angles. Wrong speed. Wrong pressure. And she was wrong. Vile. Disloyal. Cheating. Even as her mind screamed for Helena, her body betrayed her. His touch was wrong, but it was enough to heat her veins. Enough to touch that primal reproductive submissiveness. Her soul was shattering with each rock into the pillow, but her body craved more. It responded to the urge to mate, to breed. Her body knew what it needed to do to conceive, to prevent damage.  
  
She could feel his seed, the chill against the insides of her thighs, forming along her spine as she began to sweat and tremble when he continued as ordered. That cold was nothing compared to the chill against her cheeks as her tears flowed freely.    She was betraying Helena. This choice had been hers. Surely she wouldn’t become slick for Magnus or Lennox. Their roughness wouldn’t let her find a moment of pleasure. Wouldn’t be so deceptively arousing. But she had chosen Alain. The man with blue eyes and blonde hair. The closest thing to Helena available. The one General she knew wouldn’t intentionally harm her to obey his Queen’s command. She had chosen the man who would be the closest thing to her lover, and now she had to accept the price of that choice. It wasn’t her pain she was going to give, that would have been far too easy. Too straight forwards for the Queen. Instead, she would be forced to surrender to her pleasure. The one thing she had sworn to never give to any save her soulmate, the thing torn from her in the bed where they’d first consummated their relationship.  
  
When Kya thought of rape, Kya imagined herself in indescribable pain as she was torn apart... and with a final scream of forced delight, she realised she was right. As she finally had her pleasure torn from her treacherous body, Kya’s soul was torn apart.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember back in chapter 2 where I said that was the worst chapter... I LIED >.>  
> The last 800, 900 words made me incredibly uncomfortable to write. Truthfully, that little bit of writing covered a lot of what this entire piece was meant to be for my personal goals. To leave my comfort zone entirely behind and make myself uncomfortable. 
> 
> I have to give a massive shout out to ChookTingle, a beautifully sick individual who wrote not one, not two, but THREE amazing pieces on the Queen's brutality. In just a few thousand words they gave an amazing show of angst and unhappy endings, whilst perfectly portraying the Queen. Their writing gave me the courage to make myself uncomfortable this chapter. GO READ THIS MASTER.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChookTingle/pseuds/ChookTingle


	6. Chapter 6 - What Legends Forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first patrol encounter General Klein in a way none have before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter
> 
> Violence  
> Implied murder

The horizon offered nothing but a mantle of chaos. Dark clouds loomed, livid as bruises across the flesh of sky. The wind wailed, echoing cries of anguish from within the forest. The trees groaned, bending under the unending assault. Each gust disrupted the torches, which cast their flames gallantly in the face of such an incoming storm, scarcely enough to repel the encroaching darkness. The boldness of the flames flickered, casting shadows across the road as the Solders paced, the clunk of their steel joints birthing a duet with the screaming winds. Rain fell, creating a curtain of reflected whites as the skies growled, thunder rumbling as the force approached the simple barricade.  
  
The herald of this destruction was a lone figure, tall and strong, almost unaffected beneath the protection of her cloak. Only wisps of winter gold were blown from beneath her hood, tussled on the wind. Shadows rippled across her body and spiraled around her legs in an impenetrable noxious smog. Dirt whipped through the air, dragging into the core of the storm as she advanced. Ash was left in her wake, footprints of desecrated life, redirected potential torn from everything within her reach.  
  
“Halt! In the name of the Queen!” One Soldier yelled, his voice a whisper against the storm. The winds simply howled in return, as if the storm spoke for the approaching mage. The Soldiers ceased their patrol, turning to look at one another doubtfully. The air was charged with the promise of violence, tense as if holding its breath for the moment everything collided.  
  
The woman did not give a response, continuing her advance. The air crackled and hissed around her, sounds that grew with the rumbling thunder as she came within range. Eyes void of humanity gazed out from beneath her hood, so immaculately dark that even the storm appeared as bright as the sun in comparison. The woman’s gaze devoured, silently promising to claim anything foolish enough to stand in her path. In contrast to the chill of the wind, the air surrounding the woman was blistering, baring the promise of flames. Her entire body appeared to smoulder, covered in wisps of rising steam as the rain met her heated flesh. Still, the soldiers held their ground, nervously looking to one another for guidance against such a force.  
  
“I said halt or suffer the Queen’s wrath!” The first solder yelled once more, stepping forwards with his hand extended. His palm collided with the woman’s shoulder, halting her advance. The unforgiving void of her eyes shifted to the hand, gazing at the annoyance with no trace of emotion. Words evidently meant nothing, the threat apparently inconsequential. Her white gold hair fluttered briefly on the wind, which blew the smog from her figure as if it were smoke.  
  
What remained was a powerful woman. Her legs were armored by shadowlike steel, embellished with delicate blue swirls that formed an impenetrable design of glyphs. Gold contained the swirling chaos of the magic, highlighting buckles that connected armor to dark leather. A skirt flowed around her legs, dark velvet with the stars painting the insides, reflecting the glow of her magic. Closer, one could see her armored corset matched the design of her guards, leaving defined biceps open to the air. Her forearms were protected by matching steel, blending into the covering over the backs of her hands. Her palms, remarkably, remained bare.  
  
All that stood out of place was a brown travellers cloak, which hung to the back of her knees. A cloak that was evidently too short for her tall, regal frame.  
  
“I have endured her wrath long enough. It is time she suffered mine.” The Woman claimed, her regal voice a whisper of defiance that shook every man to their core. She had not shouted, yet effortlessly her declaration was heard above the brewing chaos.  
  
“It’s Klein!” One of the soldiers yelled in a panic, drawing his blade in such a haste he almost lost his grip. The second could only stare. Paralysed by his indecision.  
  
The soldiers shared stories about the betrayer. The Sorceress who turned on her Queen. Yet, they had not painted the picture he saw before him. They had spoken of a woman in pale armor wielding swords and spells. A woman who could easily dispatch ten men at once without her spells. The tales said one could hear her manic laughter before she struck down another foe, spoke of blue eyes filled with glazed enjoyment. A woman who fed off death. The stories he had heard spoke of how Helena Klein had fled the Queen’s side with her lover, attempting to remain as far away from the war as possible. They did not speak of a demon who commanded the skies, who spoke within the mind of every soldier. They did not prepare him for this.  
  
Fear tangled his guts, rendered his fingers too stiff to hold his weapon as he watched his friend. Ash wafted from the inside of the armor as it collapsed upon itself, knees buckling and arms falling as more and more white ash poured out on the next gust of wind. Nothing was left of the soldier, his flesh reduced to ash by the mere gaze of The Sorceress. Years of life seized in a moment. A family left with not even a body to bury. Just a pile of armor and perhaps a pouch of disintegrated flesh. Soon, the helmet bounced along the ground, clunking as it collided with the steel of Helena Klein’s boot. The Sorceress mercilessly kicked it aside, indifferent to the life she had claimed. The glyphs of her armor swirled, always moving within their confines as she once more began her approach. She scarcely paused as the second soldier rushed at her, instead drawing her blades. The clash of steel on steel echoed a single time before there was a gurgle, along with a burst of red that stained the divine pale skin of Helena’s collar. The second solder crumpled at Helena’s feet, head falling backwards at an unnatural angle once Helena’s fist met his face. The gaping wound in his neck continued to pour blood, defiling the purity of Helena’s armor as she strolled by. Her sights set on the third man.  
  
“P-please!” He cried desperately, falling to his knees as his hands came together in front of his chest. He was one man, a lone soldier against a legend. He knew he would be struck down, knew she could take everything away in moments no matter how hard he fought. He couldn’t die here. Who would feed his little girl? Or his son? Who could pay for his mother’s medicine while his wife kept the house? Their faces dominated his vision, printed behind his eyelids. The cheeky, toothless smile of his little boy. The beautiful eyes of his sweet girl, just like her mother’s. The croaking laugh of his mother filled his ears, along with the wet coughs that would bring blood to her lips.  
  
“M-m-my family! I can’t die! Please! I’ll do anything!” He continued as the Sorceress stopped before him. His hands clung to her boot, slipping on the blood of his fallen comrades as he sobbed. The Queen’s cause was not worth this. Not worth the pain it would cause his family. Cool steel against the underside of his chin lifted his gaze to Helena’s, meeting the terror of her eyes for the first time. Briefly, he saw his pain reflected in her face. He thought he saw her brows twitch, a flinch through her body that could have just been the lightning cracking in the sky. Or, could it be sympathy? Could he have a chance?  
  
“Where is Kya?” She demanded, her words slow and clear. There was no harshness in her voice, not when she spoke that name. That name rolled from her lips as if she were reluctant to part with it yet longed to scream it to the heavens in place of prayers. Even void of expression, the soldier instantly knew of whom she spoke. Her lover. Helena was attacking the Queen alone for her lover. She had to be!  
  
“I don’t-”  he began, his head aching as he tried to recall anything to aid in Helena’s search. To buy his life, and the wellbeing of his family. Instead, he saw her fist approaching his face, hilt held firmly in hand as her voice echoed within his entire being.  
  
“Wrong answer.”  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that got me into the mood for this chapter
> 
> IF Rain Is What You Want - Slipknot  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYj4tC-wQuc


	7. Chapter 7 - Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena fights through the Queen's foot soldiers to reach the gates.

CHAPTER 7 - BURN

 

Fire. It filled her vision, writhed around her with the shadows of magic and death. The light danced across her skin and blades, answering the reflected gleam of soldiers armor as she ducked and weaved between the closest threats.  
  
Of course there would be fire. Fire had been the tool the Queen had truly used to begin to break Helena. Magic had tormented her, touch had torn her dignity away, but it was the flames that burned the houses of her village down that had signalled the beginning of her fall into the monster she had become. A fire cast by her own vengeful hand, inspired by the whispers in a broken girl’s vulnerable ear. It only made sense the Queen would attempt to wield this tool in the face of Helena’s challenge, attempt to remind the Mage of her crimes in such a backhanded manner. A compliment to the threat she posed, and an insult to all she had ever held dear.  
  
It was funny, how Helena had never found herself afraid of fire. It came to her naturally. Her body was constantly warmed by her magic, licking just beneath the surface of her skin. Her flame was radiant in its beauty, effortlessly controlled even though was tainted blue and black in her hands. It warmed her palms, flickering to life between fingers that caressed the spell. Collected and focused on her task, she casually flicked her wrist out towards the approaching soldiers. The flames faithfully leapt at her command, eager to illuminate her darkened path towards the castle.  
  
Amidst the calming crackling, her ears caught the creak of steel joints. Helena didn’t need to see to know what was coming next, the woosh of a swung weapon. A thicker sound than a blade, slower and heavier. It was effortless to pivot to the left, twisting her blade to lightly knock the head of the mace aside. Just enough to unbalance her foe. The soldier went tumbling with a scream. It fell on deaf ears as Helena twisted once more into the next attack, slashing violently out at a soldier’s neck. Before even confirming the next man fell, Helena was turning to a third with a rapid thrust, her jagged left blade sweeping low as she completed her turn. She released her sword whilst driving her left blade down into the first man’s prone body. Where a normal blade may have failed, magic and skill allowed Helena to effortlessly plunge her weapon into the man’s chest cavity. She only had the time to claim a single breath before the thud of the final corpse hitting the ground flooded her ears, her blade still embedded in his unkempt armor.  
  
“Archers! Take aim!” The commander’s voice echoed across the battlefield, along with the sound of a dozen steel boots striking the ground in unison. The Sorceress straightened, her shoulders baring the tension that crackled in the air. She turned her head to glare towards line of Archers out of the corners of her darkened eyes, which were filled with the calm promise of merciless carnage. All they saw was the determined slant of Helena’s jaw, complementing the way her brows furrowed ever so slightly, almost as if she were calculating which man to blame for the impasse. None thought to watch her shifting fingers, which twisted around the threads of black that wafted up from the fallen.  
  
“Ready!” The Commander’s voice echoed. Helena’s fingers began to move more forcefully, tracing the shapes into the darkness as she waited for the moment to snap. She no longer acted on what she knew of magic, instead everything became infused with her memories. The curl of Kya’s shoulder blade beneath her palms. The erratically criss-crossed strands of raven hair a moment before she brushed it behind Kya’s adorable ears.  
  
“Light!” The sound of that voice banished every joyful recollection and replaced them with reality. Helena homed in on that voice, focusing on the painfully bitter fact that this commander stood between her and her love. That was where she wanted all her rage targeted, to strike out and erase the obstacle holding her from the missing piece of her identity. Ash caught in the vortex of energy she channelled, swirling to bring the shapes to life across the ground beside her. Death crept and crawled into the circles and lines, black and menacing across the trampled earth as the moment drew out.  
  
“FIRE!”  
  
Helena dove for her jagged blade, allowing her magic to unleash the instant the sound of released strings echoed. The swirling of a portal opened before Helena, shielding her as she tore her blade from the husk of the soldier. As the dust flew from within his helmet, Helena moved to her other blade, grasping the hilt firmly in hand. Panicked screams reached her ears as flaming arrows flew, attempting to catch any of Helena’s garb in the flurry. Those arrows flew through her spell, redirected towards the source of her wrath. Splinters and flames rained down on the commander, setting his clothes aflame. The spell only lasted long enough to confuse the archers before they found Helena in their sights. No longer unified, every man fired for himself, feeding the disorder Helena thrived upon.  
  
Swiftly, she withdrew her blade from the soldier. She swung it in a tight arc, filling the air with the scent of burning flesh as flames erupted from her blade, baking the blood coating it. The small burst of flame blistered through the arrows, lighting the battlefield in azure as ashen shapes fell at the Sorceress’ feet.  
  
“How is she not dead? We can’t hit her!” A dismayed cry rung across the field as an archer lowered his bow, dark eyes widening in horror as he watched the smoke clear from the seemingly indestructible sorceress.  
  
“Hold firm! She has to be nearing her limit!” A second called out in a louder voice, tone flooded with authority. The other archers remained steady, clinging to the words as if they were a lifeline. The faint hope that they could indeed overcome the odds.  
  
That futile hope was terrifyingly familiar for Helena. An old friend. It was the power that motivated her through every trial, allowed her to cast when her body screamed in agony. The futile hope that it would earn the affection she had longed for.   Take the lives and maybe she’d be spared, or better yet, touched. That was what love was, touch. Giving delight to the other. Now she understood how futile that had been. How that hope had truly been an enemy, driving her to self-depreciation and torment again and again. Just as it drove these soldiers to death again and again. It was a toxic hope she fed with every sword swipe, fighting as if she were bound by these ineffective rules. Acting on the restraints of human warfare.  
  
She was methodical as she resumed her approach, sliding her blades back into their sheaths as she began to mentally chant her spells. The chanting would be wasted energy if she let the words escape, yet they were such a part of her that her mind galivanted through the sounds like a child skipping through the grass. The air surrounding her became alive, distorting and warping into the shapes of her glyphs. Black sparks ran wild, playing the role of fish in the face of the tidal wave of spells.  
  
“KILL HER! FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST SHOOT THE BITCH!” A borderline frenzied soldier cried out, loosing his arrow in sheer desperation. The air became dank with fear, the sound of unravelling soldiers filling the ears of the battle field as they all doubled down on their efforts to slay Helena.  
  
Arrows rained down between the archers and Helena, bouncing off the air as if it had solidified once within range of Helena’s body. Each time, sparks erupted, briefly illuminating a complex layer of hexagonal and circular links that formed a net before Helena’s extended hand. The twang of bowstrings became louder and louder in her ears as she sprinted closer and closer, closing the distance between herself and her goal. Each strike was small, yet the arrows began to prick through the projected glyph, ripping traces of blue apart as if it were made of twine or leather instead of magical essence. Like a thousand little cuts that would lead one to bleed out without a bandage. Without action. Her reaction was a risk, a calculation Helena wouldn’t usually have made so quickly. One second her hand was extended, attempting to mend the broken barrier, the next she ducked an oncoming hail. Her boots skidded on the field, causing a cloud of disturbed dust to burst before her. Without the glyph, Helena was free to focus her energy once more, freezing the air before her until a pillar of blackened ice gleamed like polished onyx between herself and her prey. Her foot collided with the ice, followed by her shoulder as she righted her posture with a calm breath in.  
  
She was the spider, weaving her web of magic and power as ants put up a token resistance. Ants too entwined and tangled to disengage and too few to pose any threat. With savage fangs, Helena tore their illusions of hope apart. Her fingers spread, copied by the shadows lapping at her ankles. She clawed at the air, almost sneering as she twisted her hand and reached for the men. Like the material of a tapestry, she could feel them beneath her fingertips. Fine strings of cotton throbbing like a pulse. Heartbeats infused with fear and agony which she followed back to their cores. The colours at her disposal were unfathomable, potential energy she could harness to any purpose if only she wove the strings correctly upon the loom of fate. Unfortunately, she did not have the patience of fate nor the foresight.   She had a single purpose. A picture of black to create for any standing in her way. Thus, she tore the threads from the tapestry, threading them into the coils of power simmering beneath her skin. Dark as the void, black as the moonless night. Death.  
  
For the soldiers, it was agonising. A group of men trying to cling to shadowy claws that tore into their chest cavities. Steel, flesh and bone meant nothing to the power as it pulled their lungs in opposite directions, intent on exposing their smouldering hearts. Their veins darkened beneath their skin, turning the colour of dusk the longer the power tore at them. Blood swiftly dried, turning to muddy, crumbling dust between their fingers, coating the earth before crawling towards Helena.  
  
For Helena, it burned. Every muscle in her body longed to cringe away, to writhe free of the agony such a flood of energy brought. A single body was not enough to contain this much raw power, a prison of mere flesh trying to hold back the tides of the ocean. A child’s hand attempting to still a hurricane. The blood dust crept along her skin, forming layers of runes that continued to creep and move across her flesh. A thousand words in a thousand lost tongues flowed across her hands, around her arms and chest, turning her into something akin to a living shadow. The maelstrom of dust embraced her legs, concealing them from sight as her feet left the ground. Darkness embraced her once more, causing her hair to gleam like sunlight as it fluttered amidst the storm. Wordlessly, she extended her arms, allowing the wings of shadow to hold her aloft as she floated past the dead, oblivious to the sound of their armor striking stone again and again as her eyes fixated upon a single goal... the gates of hell itself, frozen over by a depraved lunatic masquerading as a Queen.  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has stuck with me this far, it has been AWESOME to see people enjoyed this and got ideas too. It seriously blows me away anybody would want to read and want me to continue. I hope I didn't let people down with the combat this chapter.
> 
>  Song for this chapter  
> Play with Fire - The Birthday Massacre  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdYTUg8R9zQ
> 
> I'd really love to see everyone take a shot at their own fics too, because this fandom deserves more awesome people. If you guys want to get into some fics but aren't sure of yourselves, my discord is EvoedBD#2584. I'd be more than willing to have a chat with you or put you onto some AMAZING people who helped me build some confidence.


	8. Chapter 8 - Crashing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena has finally reached the gates, where she receives more information about what she may face inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter
> 
> Implied Torture  
> Animal Suffering

Chapter 8 – Crashing Down

 

The gate loomed before her, rusted yet strong. Once, the gate had been a friend. Elegant curves had represented the end of a patrol, intricate swirls had formed the barricade between her and the retainers. Now, the corrupt steel bars stood in her way, holding her from her lover’s side. Even now, Helena could feel echoes of Solaire’s magic. The very spell that had rusted the once proudly gleaming guardian of the castle. Just as its meaning had changed, Solaire had revealed its true nature, tearing away the splendor of a gilded cage.  
  
“The Queen offered her mercy, Helena. Now, my wolves will feast. You don’t have your little whore and a bag of tricks to save you.” Jinhai’s voice cackled, brought to Helena’s ears on the raging wind. Of course she hadn’t heard him approach, her mind had been too lost in the past. It was simple to understand when she was like this, to comprehend how irrelevant everything was in comparison to what had been lost. Who she sought to reclaim.  
  
“Where is she?” Helena demanded, the viciousness of her desires rumbling like thunder in her chest. As if pulled by strings, she turned to the Elf. Whatever had once been of Helena seemed lost, driven from her by the shadows embracing her figure. Jinhai’s wolves snarled and yipped, appearing from the darkness and descending upon Helena. Slowly, they surrounded her, nipping at the wisps of dark energy flowing from her as if they might injure their prey.  
  
“Last I saw, she was with Alain. Entertaining the other Generals... I would have taken my turn, but it wouldn’t do to make my beasts wait for your blood.” The Elf jeered, his lips peeling upwards into a vile smirk. Satisfaction gleamed in his pretty eyes, as sharp as a knife against warmed butter. He clearly had expectations, his own preconceived notions of how Helena should react to such hideous suggestions.  
  
“Kya’s skin is as soft as a rabbit pelt, and the way she screams... I can see why you turned on the Queen after bedding her.”  
  
“She would never willingly lay with you.” Helena answered coolly, her voice a hollow promise. Whatever flickering rage may linger in her sapphire eyes was concealed by the obelisk of dark magic, lost in the darkness. She knew Kya wouldn’t betray her that way, even if she was forced into accepting another’s touch. Fighting would lead to further pain, surrender didn’t mean wanting or willing. It was survival. She could picture it now, what would have had to be done to make Kya surrender. To break her beloved’s gentle yet powerful will. Each thought struck Helena hard, causing her gut to feel tighter and tighter as it sunk towards her toes. Everything was quicksand, sucking her deeper and deeper into the sense of despair with her only salvation being the magic driving her.   Helena could only watch as realization dawned in Jinhai’s eyes, spreading into his cruel smirk as he spoke.  
  
“Who cares about willing?”  
  
“Silence! Leave if you value your life. I will not show mercy twice.” Helena cut him off, her tone once more completely calm and level. Her mind wanted to scream, wanted to unleash every insult and denial she could imagine. Yet, she couldn’t even make a single muscle tense. Why couldn’t she scream? Why wouldn’t her body allow her to show her emotions? They had said that for her, embodied indifference every morning. How many nights had her own screams been heard by the other Generals, only for them all to act unaware of the scratchiness of Helena’s voice? Act oblivious to how she’d limped, or refused her chair? Helena, who had willingly bowed to such things. That alone was enough to infuriate her, but for the same to be done for Kya? The woman who fought tooth and nail to drag the Sorceress from those nightmares. Who had given Helena the ability to trust another by enduring every request. Kya who surrendered to bindings just to allow Helena to feel in control. Just for the Mage’s pleasure. How could Jinhai stand there and laugh at Kya’s pain? It was simply unacceptable.  
  
On wings of shadows Helena descended to the ground, murder glowing in her disconnected eyes. What had mercy done to change this Elf? What had stilling her blade accomplished, save to light the fires of vengeance in his decrepit soul? She had spared him, spared his beasts... for what? Her reward was hearing that her soulmate was being defiled by the Queen’s twisted games, even as she traded words with this... this... unworthy distraction.  
  
“It was your mistake not to kill us when you had the chance, Klein.” The Elf hissed, his own eyes shining brightly with malicious desire. As he spoke, more wolves began to circle Helena, snarling ferociously as their elegant paws came down. Their muscles rippled, slinking into each powerful stride as they drew closer and closer.  
  
“A mistake I shall rectify.” Helena stated in return, lowering her hands to her blades once more. They sung as she drew them, hissing in the suddenly stilled air. The world was silent, waiting for the moment to snap.  
  
The first wolf leapt. Helena was a flurry of winter gold locks on the ashen air, combined with chilled rage as she spun. She seized the wolf by its throat out of the air as if it were a toy thrown to a child. Her fists ignited. A thousand memories added to the magical inferno. Scorched the world away. The scent of burning fur and flesh did not distract her, nor did the pitiful yelps and cries of the wolf as she hurled the flaming hound back towards its master. Anger felt like a distant memory, even as her body and spells danced with the attacking beasts.  
  
She spun as a second wolf lunged, twisting her torso as she swung her blade to deflect the creature’s snout. The moment the flat of her blade collided with the beast’s face, a third was snapping for her legs. Under pressure, she kicked out at the hound. Four. Five. She kicked and slashed at two more wolves. Spinning and swinging, Helena continued her dance, using her entire blade to rebuke the snapping canines. Her footwork, although elegant, was forced and off balance, a desperate dance to keep her legs from the creatures maws.  
  
Jinhai capitalized on this, charging into the fray. His fists flew, delivering jab after jab at Helena’s torso. One. Two. A twist, a duck. Three four. The crack of flesh against steel. A snarl, a whoosh, the gnashing of teeth. Helena continued to weave. Five. Six. Seven. Three blows to her torso, sending her stumbling backwards. Eight. A swing of her blade ripped through a wolf’s jaws and deflected the yowling beast. Nine. He was too close, advancing with open palms. Ten. Hot hands against her shoulders. A push. The thud of her armored body meeting the ground. Her blades bouncing from her grasp. Then the remaining wolves were upon her.  
  
She caught the first wolf in a tight knuckled grasp, fighting the writhing mass as teeth snapped shut and hot saliva dripped upon her face. She lifted a knee into its torso, driving the air from its lungs before she threw it back with all her might. Pain radiated in her left forearm as teeth dug into her bracer. A second canine reefed her arm to the side, pinning it to the ground with a hot, callused paw in the crook of her elbow. The first wolf returned for her throat, teeth gleaming in the firelight, gums glistening pink with saliva. The Sorceress remained completely calm as she twisted, driving her fist across her body and into the wolf’s throat. The body went flying into the pack, earning a chorus of whines and snarls. As the wolves bickered, Jinhai collapsed upon Helena, his large hands wrapping around her slender throat.  
  
“Did you miss this?” He hissed in manic glee, his harsh eyes alive with scarcely contained excitement. His body trembled over Helena as she writhed against him, fighting with her free arm to dislodge him. His knees pressed into her biceps, pinning her arms as he wiggled his weight forwards onto her chest.  
  
Breathless. Dark. It was too much. Too cold. She had to escape. Had to survive. Needed warmth. Kya!  
  
Her muscles writhed beneath her skin as she attempted to fight, unwilling to accept the cold hands pinning her down.   Not now, never again. No more lessons.  No more gentle fingers caressing her thighs mere moments before the blade tore through her flesh.  No harsh touches driving her beyond her sensitivity, tainting even instinctual bliss into shame.  
  
The sizzling desperation became tangible, rising from Helena in the form of black smog mixing with natural smoke. The wolf cried out, signalling the lack of pressure immobilizing Helena’s arm. Her eyes swiveled to the wolf. Fur and bone turned to goop, dripping to the ground with a sickening hiss. The sludge continued to burn, turning the dirt crisp and black before it collapsed in upon itself.  
  
“Witch!” Jinhai shrieked in a wavering voice, his domineering posture withering away as he rocked back in instinctual horror. He held his hands up, gaping at the charred black grime and burnt blood coating his palms. His skin peeled away in layers of pasty white. Just like his beasts, Jinhai became frenzied, unable to do anything but scream and whimper, reduced to trembling before the Sorceress he had sought to torment.  
  
Helena did not justify him with a response. Her hand swiftly closed around his throat, surging blue with her magic. It roared through her muscles as she stood, holding the Elf as if he were half his weight. The magic glowed along the path of her veins, throbbing steadily with her heartbeat as her obelisk eyes bored up into his. A million words flared to mind, burned on her tongue as she stared. She wanted so many things for this monster, a million pains and aches she could inflict if she spared but a moment. Yet, locked behind her walls of magic, Helena never could express them. She remained calm, almost lifeless. Jinhai’s eyes widened at her stoic reaction, then she snapped into action. Her muscles rippled, a river of melted white chocolate over serpents, as she hurled the Elf into the nearest solid object. Jinhai finally ceased trembling as he clattered listlessly against the gate.  
  
Helena was incapable of recognizing her victory, lost in the maelstrom of her power. She reached for the gate, summoning the shadows to her whim once more. The sickly vines of magic wrapped themselves around the gate, embracing the rusted steel with the weight of Helena’s crimes. Pulling. Groaning. Bending. The world narrowed to the shaking gate as it tried to serve its purpose, tried to resist the flood of accusations Helena’s magic was fueled by. To stem the tidal wave of blood Helena brought with her years of slaughter.  
  
Nothing could erase those crimes. Not Kya’s love. Not the Witch Queen’s death. Not magic. Not even the loyal gate.  
  
Helena tightened her fist, and with an inhuman shriek, the gate came crashing down.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to leave this short, instead of dragging out a dogfight... or a wolf fight, as the case is.  
> I wrote this and the chapter beforehand together, but quickly decided to split them up to give a better flow for me writing. 
> 
>  Song Inspiration for Chapter  
> This means War - Nickelback  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQSxMzl0ylM


	9. Chapter 9 - Ignore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at what Kya was experiencing at the same time Helena was beginning her rampage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter takes place around the same time as chapter 6, it is merely a look at Kya's side of things instead of Helena's.
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
> 
> Severe Disassociation  
> Brief mention of knife torture  
> Rape Aftermath  
> Urination  
> Indecent Exposure  
> Brief mentions of indecent acts

Chapter 9 - Ignore

The world felt distant. A dream she couldn’t quite remember in the haze of waking up, although her energy was skyrocketing. Her heart rioted within her chest, desperately attempting to break through the bars of her ribcage, to tear through the confines of muscle and skin. Yet, somehow, she felt calm, unmotivated to move and unable to simply sleep.

Her eyes couldn’t comprehend the world, yet she could very clearly make out the trembling figure of Alain. She traced the dribbling lines of pink down his torso, dancing down the crevices of his chiselled muscles, emphasising the perfection of the rippling waves beneath his pale skin. The pink rolled down through the bumps of his heaving abdominal muscles, catching along the sharp lines of his hips, the V leading to his groin and then lower. Down, down, down. Somewhere, in her mind, she knew that the pink was a mix of sweat and other fluids diluting blood. Her blood. Yet it didn’t feel horrifying as it should. The world was merely sights, and this sight was captivating. Intoxicating. Somehow... wrong. It should make her gut clench in disgust and her body shudder at the violation, yet it did not.

After all, how could it be her? How could this be her blood? How could it be real? Any moment now, this would stop, the director would yell cut and the scene would end. The world would open into glamor and cameras as Alain wiped the fake horror from his body. The blushing assistant would bring him a robe to cover himself, trying to avoid the tantalising trails. Kya could reach down and wipe away the bruising along her thighs, could move from the spoiled bed. She could go home to her shitty, overpriced apartment. She could take a shower and wipe away her face, no longer look in the mirror and see the Queen gazing back. She’d cook something nasty from the freezer, playfully dance around the kitchen as Helena watched with her gentle smile. After, Sophie would come over and binge watch B grade cop shows, complaining about being the third wheel whilst Kya snuggled into Helena’s side. The night would see Kya in Helena’s bed as they guided one another into the heights of bliss, where Kya’s liquid muscles and breathy whimpers were something given out of love, not something wrenched from her control. Where a cry of Helena’s name was her ode to a goddess, to perfection that held no other name. Not a plea for a saviour, not a reminder of what she was fighting for.

Helena. Sweet, gentle, breathtaking Helena. The woman who could dominate and claim Kya entirely without ever using force. Who made surrendering control an effortless choice. Who used the power given to her in order to bring Kya delight, instead of selfishly claiming it for herself. Who put Kya before herself, no matter how the world might see it.

A woman who brought everything Kya was to the surface, who bathed in Kya’s gentle understanding. Who curled into Kya’s arms at night when the terrors of her past became too powerful to bare alone. Who surrendered her abused body and tortured heart with the most expressive deep blue eyes and utter trust. The woman who showed Kya a world of greys, like the moments just before the sunrise gave colour to the scene. Helena, who deserved to be protected from this fate again no matter what.

Helena... who Kya had betrayed.

Maybe that was why she couldn’t feel the torment she endured. Because she deserved to be here, suffering her punishment silently. The pain of the Queen’s magic across her body was minuscule, non-existent even, compared to the thought that she had betrayed her lover. Each curse driven against her skin was fascinating, a strange sensation that didn’t quite deal pain. Almost as if it could not. Lazily, her gaze drifted to her tormentor. The Queen’s off white eyes narrowed in silent fury, her brows furrowed in utter confoundment as the knife gleamed wickedly in her grasp. Kya could only watch as a slither of cursed moonlight gouged her skin, bringing forth rivers of crimson across her trembling flesh for but a few moments before the ice captured them, leaving frozen trails raised above the edge of her skin. Fascinating lines captured in the moment of rapture, marking yet another failure from the Queen.

“Allow me, my Queen. I will succeed where General Richter failed.”

“You wish to have your way with her, Magnus?” The Queen enquired, almost purring at the sight of her loyal general salivating at his chance for revenge.

“If my Queen would only request it of me.” Magnus’ voice was filled with barely restrained hope, eager to be let loose upon Kya’s prone body. That longing slithered through his voice, matching eyes which shone with unvoiced wrath. Eyes gleaming like sunlight off rotting scales in a pit of noxious smog.

“My Queen. Your condition was for her to choose... I will continue if it is your desire.” Alain’s voice cut in, a gleaming sword of hope in the trembling grasp of a disgraced knight. The general’s voice was rough, his words almost slurred as he attempted to put on a bold face, to ignore his own pain. His dedication to his task did not waver under the Queen’s judging gaze, nor the snicker from his fellow General.

“It is clear General Richter is no longer up for the task. It would be unwise to tax him further.”

“Are you implying I cannot serve my Queen, Magnus?” Despite his exhaustion, Alain’s voice was dangerous, edged with the vow of retribution.

“I am simply thinking what is best for my Queen’s interest. There is no need to exert yourself further when others are willing and able.”

The bickering continued, voices fading as Kya simply turned to stare up at the roof.

She could still remember the first time she stared up at this roof, the confusion sizzling in her veins as Helena’s hair brushed against her bare shoulder. The first time she saw the rippling muscles and luscious curves of the Sorceress outlined in the shadows, almost as if Helena had been a wolf prepared to strike if touched. If Kya just let her mind wander, she could feel the warmth of Helena beside her. Tensed, refusing contact and yet somehow calling to her. The faintest brushes of skin against skin as sleep began to claim them. Barriers of blankets falling apart as nights drew on, even though Helena steadfastly refused to speak or acknowledge Kya’s presence. Pretended to sleep all night, remaining perfectly still until Kya drifted off. It was when Helena was asleep, Kya had begun to see cracks. It was moments Kya mimicked Helena’s behaviour that the Sorceress began to relax. Where exhaustion dulled her attention enough for Kya to truly examine. For Helena’s nightmares to rear their ugly head.

“As entertaining as this is, you are wasting time. We all know Klein will come for her. Already, the forest and nearby farms burn on Klein’s approach.” Jinhai sighed, running his hands casually over Kya’s bruised breasts. His fingers played with her as if she were an animal, scratching absentmindedly as the Elf spoke.

“Speak, Elf! How many of Reiner’s men follow her?” Magnus demanded. All at once, his voice switched from eager to sharp, almost as if he had drawn his tactical mind as a weapon.

“It appears she decided that Lord Reiner and his forces were opposition. Those who remain after her outburst are either handling the dead and dying or aiding the farmers she has since attacked on her way to us. She is entirely alone, relying only on her stolen power and our Queen’s gifts.”

“Well, well, it appears my little light has finally found herself again.” The Queen laughed, her smile becoming genuine as it flickered into existence on her lips. Proud, even. A little too knowing for comfort.

“Magnus, Jinhai, relieve yourselves and prepare. I desire her alive, but I will accept her death. I can create another weapon if she proves too unruly.” The Queen ordered, turning her gaze from each General then back to Kya. Consideration danced in her eyes as she gazed into Kya’s unfocused ones, her hand grasping the woman’s jaw. Kya could only swallow, lost in the winter storm and frozen wasteland of what had once been a kind lady. What was the Queen thinking? What would happen? Why couldn’t she remain focused enough to understand the words pouring from her lips? The orders she was giving.

“- do not touch Helena’s little pet. Handle yourselves swiftly, I have no time for your dalliances.”

Kya’s mind desperately tried to connect the meaning to the words, struggling to sink back to ground from the strange high that she was flying through. Here was safe, untouchable mentally. There was no pain, no words she could make her mouth form. Only a quiet whine escaped her, almost animalistic in its nature.

Jinhai instantly smirked, his pretty face contorting into something as terrifying as his beasts. Leisurely touches faded away, leaving something akin to the sensation cotton across Kya’s skin. Her head turned to the Elf, watching as his deft fingers began to work on the buttons at his crotch. It had to be a dream. A scene from some exotic movie she watched. The perfect way his hand vanished through his fly, knuckles bulging beneath the tight cloth of his trousers as he fetched himself out. She barely registered the moments he took to line himself up before a glitter in the air caught her eye. Diamonds rushing towards her so swiftly that she turned her head to avoid the collision.

Warmth spread through her hair. Pungent smelling enough to startle her towards waking. Something within her began to churn, stirring at the depths of her being. Something from within the darkest corners of her identity.

Whilst Jinhai had taken the Queen’s command as directed to his bladder, Magnus decided his relief was his pleasure. Her eyes stayed determinedly on his face, causing her body to shake with the effort of the task. Allowed her to steadfastly ignore the rhythmic sound of skin rubbing against skin, the rapid strokes pairing with laboured breathing and animalistic grunts. She couldn’t let her gaze fall, couldn’t allow herself to see what was bound to happen. What was happening already. Whatever throbbed in her veins gave her the awareness to use her jaws, to bite down on the sodden material of Helena’s old pillow. A small act of defiance and possession, something so instinctual that even her overwhelmed body could act wholeheartedly on it.

All she had to do was close her eyes, bite down, and ignore.

Ignore.

Ignore.

Ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must give a MASSIVE shout out to Aralek, who is an absolutely AMAZING up and coming writer. They reached out to me about 20 days ago and honestly they've soaked up advice myself and other more seasoned writers have tossed their way. The story, When Fates Collide, is an AMAZING concept of Helena winning the heart of a mage MC from Altea's timeline. Where Altea and MC remained friends. Thus far, there have been approaches taken I have not seen with Helena. You'll get action, some laughs, pangs of sadness and sympathy. Honestly, the story can only get better and better as this writer finds their stride. GO CHECK THIS OUT!!! Like, yesterday!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364673/chapters/43484180


	10. Chapter 10 - Of Bloodlines and Heirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen reveals some devastating truths to a helpless Kya, before the gate comes crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings.
> 
> Suggestions of rape  
> Suggestions of child murder  
> Discussions of abuse

Chapter 10 – Of Bloodlines and Heirs

 

Kya was roused by a gentle pressure along her jaw, supporting the weight of her head so that her face was angled towards the roof. A caress as gentle as a swan’s feather brushed across her cheek, erasing the lingering humiliation with such delicate care that Kya could almost sob.  
  
The hand was so strikingly familiar, yet at the same time so completely strange. A rock beneath the clear waters of Greece. Seemingly so close and yet so far beneath the surface that Kya would lose her breath seeking the answer. She could feel the other hand beside her, along with the closeness of another hip brushing her own. Cold and silky material tickling her skin, something so rich that Kya’s mind began to drift away once more.  
  
“Men. Always seeking to flex their power.” A voice dripping with derision shattered against the rocks of Kya’s conscious.  
  
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, landing upon the relaxed figure of the Queen. The Witch Queen was as regal as ever, with one leg bent, ankle resting beside the other knee on the bed. The light captured her lavish curves, gleaming across the dip of her hip, only to shadow her sides and breasts. Shadows danced along her collarbone, drawing Kya’s eyes across her shoulders, down her supporting arm, right to the wicked rings adorning the Queen’s dominant hand.  
  
“I presume that is why you appreciate Helena. So willing to prostitute herself for a mere scrap of affection. So mindlessly obedient, once she’s been reminded to serve.” The Queen spoke casually, her head tilted as she inspected her sticky fingers. Her brows twitched as she rubbed the substance between her fingers in a way similar to old Hollywood. The villain wiping dust from a fireplace mantle, judgement soiling the environment more than any dust ever could. Kya was merely a means to an end, the mantle to be sullied. That was ever so clear to her, rubbed in her face time and time again. She had accepted that. But Helena? For that name to be stained by the Queen’s mouth... unacceptable.  
  
“When she came to me, she was nothing. A waif of a girl, too tall for the rags she donned. After her failed attempt to murder me, she bowed so easily. Just like a hound needing to be put in it’s place. All those nights of pleasure. Feeling her break beneath my spells, shatter into my waiting hands. Hearing her cry and plead for more, even as her blood stained my sheets. Listening to her proclamations of love and servitude with her deceptive tongue. How easily she threw everything away without my constant guidance. Perhaps I should have allowed my Generals more time with her, instead of encouraging her concept that she was equal. That she was worth anything more than her pleasure to me. I am sure Alain could tell you which of you he preferred to have in his bed. Perhaps I shall ask Jinhai to test which of you makes the most delightful sounds, or Len-“  
  
Kya interrupted the Queen with a soft huff. She tried, gathering everything she had left in her body in order to rise. The world was red in the very blue room. Blood soaked, promising the demise of the Queen if only Kya could force more than her head to lift from the pillow. If only...  
  
“Such passion for my broken plaything. Is she worth more than your own dignity? You whined and cried for my general, allowed him to violate you. You endured my men using you like a latrine without complaint... yet, for something as worthless as Helena, you find your spine?” The Queen laughed, bringing a single finger to Kya’s collarbone. The Queen’s nail just began to poke into her flesh, enough of a warning to promise what might happen if Kya rose any further. If she even could. With that single touch, Kya’s body collapsed back into the bed, bloodied chest heaving and abdomen twitching with exhaustion.  
  
“Do you believe she would sacrifice the same for you, girl? When she cries your name, do you truly believe it is not me she pictures in your place? Are you enough to make her forget me?”  
  
At that, Kya flinched, squeezing her eyes shut as if it might erase the question. Of course, she knew the answer, it was as eternal as the universe. As the remnant of stars shining against the midnight ink of a moonless sky. Every night, Kya was the one holding the Sorceress close as she whimpered. It was Kya who wiped the sweat from Helena’s brow and the tears from her cheeks.  
  
“That scar inside her thigh? She had seen seventeen winters when I gifted that to her. A reminder not to wield her magic against me. I still recall how she writhed and squealed, when my nights are long and lonely.” The Queen mocked, earning another weak attempt at rising from Kya. Once again, it took no effort for the Queen to quell Kya’s foolish attempts at rebellion.  
  
“It took many months to teach her to still and accept a blade, less she cause more unsightly damage. It is fortunate she has talent with alchemy. To preserve her beauty, among other things.”  
  
_“-This bitch!-“_ Kya’s thoughts snarled, even though she could only force out a somewhat sharp breath to vocalise her distain.  
  
It was always Kya’s lips that caressed every gnarled scar on Helena’s body, worshiping the fact that every wound was only a memory. Some nights, it took hours for Helena’s body to melt into the offered affection, to accept that sleep was safe. It was always the same for them. Kya’s hands bound, or held by Helena’s words. Never touching. Never disobeying Helena’s wishes. Often, Kya felt her fingers twitch with the urge to trace the horrifying scars across Helena’s body, to reinforce that Helena had survived every torment. Kya was always the one supporting Helena, the wings lifting the disgraced mage beyond the prison of her own fears and agony. Kya understood that the trauma would never truly vanish. It made every smile worth more than diamonds, every laugh a ballad to put Mozart to shame. No. The Queen’s touch would never fade. Nothing could ever erase everything the Queen had engrained in Helena’s psyche. Yet, just as night became day, Kya knew that the Queen was Helena’s dark past. She did not have to be her future. That, after all, was what truly bound Kya here. The choice that Helena’s freedom was worth more than her own.  
  
“N-n-“ Kya tried to speak. Her throat constricted even as her roughened vocal chords ached. Her voice was a beautiful tree, hacked down and sanded by the Queen’s torment. By Kya’s very own screams.  
  
“No. You do not forget your first love. I certainly have not.”  
  
“K-k-ki-” Kya once more tried to force some word, any word, past the lump in her throat.  
  
“The King. Ah yes. A kind and just man, beloved across the realms by his loyal subjects and other rulers alike.” The Queen tilted her head, gazing down at Kya with her lips peeled from her teeth in bitter rage. For a brief moment, Kya fancied that she saw something in the Queen’s eyes. Something innocent, cracked and broken beyond repair. Something haunted.  
  
“Nobles have their own rules of conduct, especially for the lineage of their beloved king. He wanted a maiden, untouched by any other. No risk to the purity of his heir. No bastard tainting his family name. He also wanted me before our engagement was announced. He spoke to me of how we would rule. We planned our dreams together, discussed how we might better trade and have the human domain prosper. Of course, I gave everything to him. My loyalty. My mind. My heart.” The Queen trailed off into a light scoff, disgust crawling across her face as if it were a thousand spiders. Legs entwining until nothing of the radiant woman beneath even showed.  
  
“The night before he would announce it he came to my chambers, already reeking of the cheapest swill from the commoners tavern. A celebration, he claimed, his last night unwed. Then, he asked me to remove my gowns. He would not hear my objections, nor did I truly have the heart to disgrace him. What would it matter when we were wed how our consummation had come about?” The Queen’s expression shifted, lips forming a fine line as her eyes fixated on Kya’s. They remained sharp and aware, watching as realisation began to dawn across Kya’s expression.  
  
“The following morn, I did as we had planned for so very long. In his court, I declared my love for the king and offered myself to be his loving wife. My lands to be his beyond the right of his crown, my womb to nurture his heirs. He turned me down, as it is known, with concerns regarding my purity. If I could have proven it, I may have redeemed my reputation at least. Instead, I was disgraced, not only rejected. What lord would take a noble woman suspected of parting her legs for any man to ask? There was, of course, another gift he gave me that night.” The Queen continued.  Her face softened for a fraction of a second as her eyes drifted downwards, gazing between her breasts with a flicker of longing. Kya’s gaze followed, down beyond the neckline of her gown, beyond the laces binding it together, right to the Queen’s belly.  
  
_“-she’s not saying..?-”_  
  
“When I did not attend the courts for the first month, there were no questions. I was allowed a grace period to heal my damaged pride. When further months passed, rumours began to spread. The Lady must be with child, likely to her knight. The courts knew of my friendship with Alain. They saw how he gazed upon me. As did the King. He sent ambassadors and doctors to my castle, to attempt to aid with my ailments. One saw to this by stabbing me thrice in the belly. After my recovery from this alarming assassination attempt, the king had no further concerns.”  
  
Kya could only blink, horror burning in her body as she took in the magnitude of the Queen’s words. The other side of the story. Did the Retainers even know this? Had anyone known who could have prevented the Witch Queen’s rise to power? Prevented this tragedy? How had it been left alone for so long?  
  
_“-That doesn’t justify what she’s done to Helena.-“_ Kya reminded herself, setting her jaw in determination. Stone coloured eyes rose to the Queen’s, filled with tears and conflicting emotions. Outrage, sympathy, denial, empathy. Fireworks flashing through the backdrop of grey.  
  
“Helena. The demons...” Kya rasped, white hot pain shooting through her body as she managed to speak. Her chest heaved, tightening enough that she coughed. Her own spittle tainted her lips, mixing with blood as it trailed down the corners of her mouth. It tickled, she noted. She’d never thought blood tickled.  
  
“I had to slay the demons. To protect us all from more things like Helena. Her mere existence is a danger to this world.” The Queen spoke quietly, her voice calm and gentle as she brushed Kya’s hair back from her face. Sharp nails grazed Kya’s flesh, reminding the otherwordly woman of what might happen should she disobey.  
  
“When Helena first attacked, it was merely her lack of knowledge that allowed me such an easy victory. Her worthless blood should not have contained such raw power. It took me several winters to feel that rise in her again, and many more for me to understand what she was. What she could become. By then, she had learned too much. It would have been too cruel to simply slay her, after all, it is not her fault she exists. I had to prevent any accidents... and any more of Helena being born. That is why I sent her to destroy her village, to know she was truly mine. To ensure her mother’s line ended there.  Her father, however, was far more complex.” The Queen’s lips twitched into a saccharine smile as she rose, her eyes expressing her pride.  
  
“As I begun to eliminate the Demons, I had Lennox and Jinhai track down every demon to have crossed paths with her mother. Eventually, I found the only candidate. A scholar of some renown. When I told him of Helena, he practically begged to teach her. Some pain persuaded him to see things my way, and to keep his tongue. I went to great lengths to allow Helena to know her father. To learn and bond with him as a daughter truly should. To learn of her heritage in the most intimate of ways.  I watched him attempt to sway her from my side, watched her confusion begin to cause cracks in my careful training. He would have had her unleashed upon the world without direction. With nobody to ensure her discipline. So, when her heart was at its softest, I commanded her to seize his power for herself and strike him down.”  
  
_“-What? She didn’t! No... she couldn’t have. Nobody could be that cruel...-“_  
  
“Then, I had her use her father’s magic to eradicate the demons. Her own people, all without her even knowing what she was doing. Now, nobody can recreate Helena. None will rival my weapon, my half demon. Only I can destroy this world!” The Queen gloated, her laughter echoing along with the distant sound of an almighty crash. The castle shook, causing the chandeliers to swing violently above Kya’s head. She could hear the tinks and clinks of straining glass and pottery rapidly bumping together in the aftermath. Then came the screaming. The terrifying screaming which drew a delighted smile from the Queen.  
  
“My little light is a masterpiece. My finest creation. Whilst I deal with this little temper tantrum, I believe you would enjoy seeing more of what we have done together, wouldn’t you?” The Queen’s mirth was followed by the touch of her hand over Kya’s face, the brightest flare of magic that sizzled against Kya’s veins.  
  
Then, for Kya, all the screams faded into a single voice.  
  
“Helena.”  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always struck me as odd that there was nothing more to the Queen loving the king, so I decided to attempt a more tragic history that was lost in the war. My goal was to show some humanity to the Queen, if only for a brief moment. Afterall, she did not start out evil. This has me quite nervous, given how much I personally dislike the Queen. I'd love to know people's views on it, if I managed to get you to maybe feel an ounce of sympathy for the Bitch... I mean, Witch Queen.
> 
> Also, if you're looking for more to read, Check this little tale out. The Writer used AMAZING language in their dialog, which actually inspired me to rush this chapter on. Some unusual choices of words got my brain churning.   
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18547633  
> Du bist die Liebe meines Lebens by TheDyslexicFaerie
> 
> The Song that inspired this chapter.  
> World So Cold - 12 Stones  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCXKVwcQVek


	11. Chapter 11 - The Promise of Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena finally lays eyes on Kya, but can she stomach what has happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter
> 
> Rape Aftermath  
> Aftermath of Torture  
> Fragile Mental State

Chapter 11 – The Promise of Reunion

 

The moment she saw Kya, she knew.  
  
Even in the grasp of her magic Helena could feel horror rising in her entire body, threatening to flood from her glistening eyes. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see the woman she loved reduced to such a state. Fear clawed through the haze of magic, attacking her tightening chest as she finally forced herself to take in the sight of her lover.  
  
A first glance revealed very little. The naked expanse of Kya’s body, with her ribs poking out from beneath her taught skin. Textures of dirt and grime gripped Kya’s body, emphasising the shadows of bruising blooming across her entire torso, mixing with the delicate murky brown dribbles from every puncture and shallow line. Parts of Kya’s skin were blistered, layers peeling away in the wake of icy burns. The longer Helena looked, the more details jumped out at her. The intensity of the grime at the bottom of Kya’s feet, the bruising along the top of her feet that blended with the chaffing around her shins.  
  
_“-No...-“_ Helena’s mind whimpered pitifully as she approached with every intent to scoop her lover into her arms. Helena’s gut twisted, causing the halo of fire surrounding her to flicker in a manner similar to a cat swishing its tail. If not for the magic burning through her, Helena was positive she would have collapsed, would have broken under the weight of what she saw.  
  
The bruising was darker up Kya’s thighs, mixing with the same crusted blood that Helena had once found on herself in the aftermath. The sheets beneath Kya’s body were soiled, dark with various liquids pooling between her abused legs. Helena was quick to identify most, along with the actions that had caused them. It sickened her, knowing that Kya’s body could have betrayed her in such a way. The Queen caused indescribable pain, yet she was capable of drawing the deepest pleasures to the surface at the same time. It was the poison Helena had swallowed a thousand times, the climatic bliss even as her mind screamed in agony. The ultimate show the Queen owned everything you were, down to your pleasure. The worst of this image, however, was the thick white substance splattered across Kya’s entire body in ribbons, copious amounts dripping over her most intimate places, staining her in such a way Helena knew she had been exposed more than once. Left to suffer the humiliation unbound once she had physically broken. The ultimate show of how helpless the girl was.  
  
The image was so familiar she could feel herself shaking. Her body rebelled, causing her to stagger the final steps to Kya’s side. Her palms came down on the bed the moment before her knees hit the floor, giving out as she buried her nose in tangled raven locks. The scent was all wrong, drowned in the pungent odor of everyone who had helped humiliate her love, but Kya was there. The stench of unwashed hair, sweat. It may as well have been the sweetest fragrance for how deeply Helena inhaled, anchoring herself in the moment before she withdrew.  
  
Kya’s face was a mask of exhaustion, streaked with dirt and tears along with the splutters of white across her chin, up over her sliced cheekbone to her ear. Her blood stained lips were parted enough to draw breath, whilst her teeth remained clamped around the baby blue pillow beneath her head. Helena’s old pillow. Even when she had been tormented, Kya had literally clung to Helena with her teeth. That realisation was enough to draw the first choked sob from Helena.  
  
“N-no more. I c-can’t! Don’t hurt her!” Kya’s voice was weak, muffled by the fact her teeth kept clenched around the pillow akin to a lifeline.  
  
“Kya. Hush now.” Helena cooed as best she could, forcing the sound through her own sobs. The Sorceress couldn’t help herself when her voice failed her, not with Kya within her reach. She quickly leaned forwards, pressing her lips tenderly to Kya’s. The taste of salt was overwhelming, tears mixed with other flavours that made her stomach churn with disgust. Helena didn’t care. She would suffer any ailment to soothe Kya’s pain, to bring her lover back to the world of the living. Slowly, she felt Kya’s lips warm to hers, trembling like a foal on its first legs. Kya’s body was battered, her spirit drowned, but even then she couldn’t conceal the spark of life she had clung to.  
  
“Helena...” Kya whimpered desperately once they broke apart, opening her stone coloured eyes to gaze into Helena’s. The younger woman didn’t even startle when she was met with pure obsidian in place of sapphire blues, instead her lips curled into a hopeful smile. Even beaten down, Kya’s smile was more beautiful than light itself. Everything existed just to create the perfect backdrop for that captivating expression.  
  
“Kya... my beautiful Kya.” Helena’s response was a soothing whisper, laced with her tears of joy. Helena’s hand came up to Kya’s face, allowing her fingertips to touch the flesh as her thumb wiped away every degrading substance. Kya let out a gleeful squeak, allowing the blue to fall from between her teeth as she rolled onto her side. Her body trembled with the effort, spurred on by desperation as she launched into the flames.  
  
“Helena. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t want them. I couldn’t stop it...” Kya sobbed, clinging desperately to the Sorceress. Her hands found fistfuls of blonde hair, the curtain of moonlight that would hide her from the horrors. Warmth burned through Kya’s body, crackling and rippling over her in soothing waves as her nose found the safety of Helena’s pulse. The scent of magic, of safety and love. The mixture of plants and battle forged her shield, protecting her heart from every attack her tormented mind dared launch. Her emotions were a war, launching bombs of guilt and disgust as foot soldiers of despair and hatred fired at everything good in her heart. Her body was war unending, yet Helena was world peace sitting in the palm of her dirty hands.  
  
“I know. I‘m here now, Kya. You’re so strong, my gentle heart. You’re safe now.”  
  
“Safe?” The word slipped out in a disbelieving sob. The concept of safety had been ripped from Kya’s being so quickly, hidden beneath the strokes of misery after all she had seen. Helena’s face still bore the faint bruises of her imprisonment, so it couldn’t have been that long Kya had suffered. That fact hit hard, a reminder of how swiftly she had unravelled when Helena had endured for years.  
  
“It’s never safe.”  
  
”Kya, heed my words. I swear, I shall die before I allow them to lay a hand on my soulmate again!” Helena spoke without thought, wrapping her own arms firmly around the woman in her embrace. Her throat tightened, agonised by the declaration when Kya was so evidently vulnerable. MY. A possessive word. Too close to MINE. Too close to ownership. The implications of such words that could tear Kya’s choices away.  
  
“I’m yours. Only yours.” Kya sniffled in return, allowing her muscles to begin to unlock. It was easier to be Helena’s than to be safe. Safe had been violated. Destroyed. Yet Helena stood true, the shelter and the storm.   Nobody else could ever touch Kya again, not when she surrendered entirely to the woman holding her. There was nothing left to be taken from her, not when somebody else possessed it all. The longer Kya lingered, the more she felt the truth of her words. The rolling sense of magic felt deeper, seeping into every pore as it chased away all the lingering claims that had been laid on Kya’s body. The destructive magic was hardly terrifying, not when it did nothing more than set every nerve on fire in a way nobody else could. Not the Queen. Not Alain. Not every guard who had tried to break her. The way her nerves rebelled for them was precisely that. A rebellion. Scissors cutting at the autotune cords to reveal their hideousness for what it was. Helena didn’t need autotune. She was the existence of music itself.   Even her most primal, violent magic could never hurt Kya. Not when it was a part of her soul weaving through Kya’s being.  
  
For all the music, however, another sound accompanied. The off tune synthetic beat that pierced the air, throbbing behind Kya’s eyes like an erratic heartbeat. A sound so horrifying that she burrowed her nose into the sweet crook of Helena’s neck with a broken whimper.  
  
“Welcome home, my little light. I have been expecting your return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make this short, since I hope to change the tone for the next showdown... If anyone has any expectations, please lay them on me. I have my own ideas, but I hope to deliver a conflict worthy of the Witch Queen and an off her face Helena.
> 
> The Song I used to inspire this chapter  
> Nothing to lose but you - three days Grace  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrW_mUb2Emw

**Author's Note:**

> The Song that inspired the story.  
> Blood - Breaking Benjamin  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMjqGl3UDCk


End file.
